


Six Week Special

by queen_of_hells_bells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hate to Love, Jock!Cas, M/M, dick!cas, nerd!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:18:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 49,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_of_hells_bells/pseuds/queen_of_hells_bells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean needs a favor, Castiel's a dick, and the two...come to a compromise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week One, Part One

Dean hates this school. This school marks him as a nerd, shunts him to the corner of the lunch room. This school is ruled by an annoying-ass group called ‘The Angels’, which hates him. This school causes him to have to get up at six o’clock to get on the bus to go to school (because living at this school costs waaaaaay too much money). This school gave him a breakfast work job. And this school made the captain of his work job the biggest dick to ever dick.

Castiel Novak.

Castiel. James. Novak.

Leader of The Angels. Beautiful, handsome, perfect, football player, smart ( _hah!_ ), nice to everyone in the school. _Dick_.

Well, nice to everyone except Dean, that is. Ever since Dean showed up at this stupid school-barely even three months ago-the boy seems to have made it his personal mission to make Dean’s life hell.

****

They’d met for the first time on the first day of school, during history class, when Dean raised his hand and described, in great detail, the history and complexities of the Spanish Inquisition. Immediately after the class, Castiel had introduced himself by shoving Dean up against a wall and threatening him until he’d agreed to do Castiel’s history homework for the rest of the year.

They’d met again later that day when both of them showed up to football practice: Castiel to practice, Dean in his official capacity as manager of the football team. Dean had gotten a lot of shit for that decision, along with the decision to wear a Star Wars shirt to school. Castiel and all his jock buddies had spent the entirety of practice making fun of Dean for preferring to sit on the sidelines and do his (Castiel’s) homework.

Every day, for the last three months, Dean had been harassed for being a ‘nerd’, a ‘geek’, for having a tumblr, for reading fanfiction, for wearing nerdy t-shirts under his flannel, for not playing sports, for being gay. Harassed by the same guy from he now has to ask for help.

As a last resort, he could at least threaten to stop doing his history homework.

 

Dean stood in front of Castiel’s desk, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Hey, Castiel?”

“Winchester.” _Winchester. Never Dean, always Winchester_. “You missed your job this morning.” It wasn’t a question; it was a demand for information.

Dean never looked up, but he could feel Castiel’s smirk on his skin. “Yeah, look, Castiel, about that; I can’t do my job. It’s just too early for me to get here, so I was…I was wondering if there was anything I could do to get out of it.”

Castiel hopped up on the desk, leaning forward to stare intently at Dean. _God, his eyes are so blue, like_ \- “What would you do?”

“What?” Dean blinked as he snapped out of his thoughts. Castiel rolled his eyes.

“I said: what would you do?” Each word was emphasized with a tap of a finger upon the wooden desk.

Dean swallowed, recognizing a challenge when he saw one. “Anything.”

The two boys stared at each other for a tense, silent moment before Castiel grinned. “Brilliant. Date me for six weeks.”

Dean blinked, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Date me for six weeks, just until jobs end. Then you can jilt me in front of the whole school-if you want. I’ll-”

“You hate me.” The words just tumbled out, but they got Castiel to shut up for a moment. “Just, you hate me. Why would you want to date me for even a day?”

Castiel shrugged. “Feels like fun. You seem like you need to have more fun.”

Dean stared at the boy in front of him incredulously. _What_? “The only reason I don’t have fun, Castiel, is because I’m too damn busy doing your frackin’ homework. Or, I’m too busy being taunted and pushed around by your friends. So I apologize if I don’t seem like I’m having fun, I’m just too busy dealing with all the baggage that comes with you hating me.” Dean’s voice had lowered to a dangerous growl. “Sorry.”

There was a beat of silence. Castiel puffed out his cheeks before sighing and nodding his head. “Okay.” Another short moment of silence. “So, normal relationship rules apply: PDA, obviously-as much or as little as we want, no sleeping around, oh, and no telling anyone that this a business agreement. We’ll tell everyone that I asked you out. I even had to persuade you.”

“You haven’t persuaded me yet.” Castiel gave him a cocky grin. “And did you even hear anything I just said?”

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes, making a pfff-ing noise. “‘Course I did. You’re just more of a challenge than anyone else. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a challenge. Do we have a deal?” Castiel held out his hand, shaking it impatiently when Dean didn’t immediately respond. “Look, you said you wanted out of the job. This is a simple, easy task. Six weeks of me, and then you can dump me and make me look bad in front of the whole school.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, then sighed in defeat, shaking Castiel’s hand. “Deal.”

Castiel grinned delightedly, hopping off the desk to stand directly in front of Dean. “Great.” He leaned up to give Dean a quick kiss on the lips: just barely a peck, nothing more; he was gone before Dean could react. “See you at lunch, sweet cheeks!”

With that, he practically danced out of the classroom, leaving Dean to slump against the desk, with a complete sense of ‘what have I _done_?’


	2. Week One, Part Two

Castiel spun out of the classroom, his smile immediately leaving his face as he dropped into a hard, stomping walk. _You hate me_. He punched the wall, hard enough to make his knuckles hurt: maybe it would take the sting out Dean’s words. _You hate me. Youhatemeyouhatemeyouhateme!_ Where had Dean gotten a stupid idea like that? Castiel, hate Dean Winchester? The thought was absurd. Sure, maybe Castiel hadn’t made such a good first impression, and maybe he had been a bit of a dick at football practice, and maybe he’d stood by while his friends made fun of Dean’s geekiness, and (no maybe about it this time) he'd made Dean do his history homework. And maybe he’d even stood by when he’d heard people calling Dean a faggot, though they resolutely avoided the word when talking about Castiel himself.

Shit. No wonder Dean thought Castiel hated him.

Though, when he thought about it, Castiel had been re-paying Dean for doing his homework for the whole time he'd been at the school. If anyone even thought about touching Dean, about making Dean get down on his knees, hell, if anyone stared at Dean for too long, Castiel made damn sure they didn't ever do it again. Dean was HIS, godammit and-

And oh sweet Jesus he did NOT deserve him.

It was just that Dean was so perfect. He was so smart, and funny, and beautiful, and friendly, and...well, perfect. And Castiel was, for all intents and purposes, a massive dick. And now look at him, forcing Dean into a relationship he had no desire to be in, just so he could get out of his work job. Castiel had basically just made Dean a prostitute.

Oh GOD, he should go back now, let Dean out of the whole arrangement, tell him not to worry about the job, that he understood, he'd mark him as present every day.

Yeah, that's what he should do. He should do that.

Castiel turned in the hallway, an abrupt about-face causing him to almost crash into a small freshman girl. She looked scared when he glowered. _Good. She should be_.

He forced himself through the door of the classroom and was opening his mouth to speak when he saw Dean chatting with Alfie. Sweet, adorable, sophomore Alfie. Sweet, adorable, GAY Alfie.

Castiel saw red. How dare Alfi, how DARE he? Alfie knew how Castiel felt about Dean; he was one of the few people Castiel had actually told. And now here he was, practically throwing himself at Dean's feet.

 _Smile. Smile, be friendly, waltz like you own the room_. And he was about to do just that when he Alfie said something, too low for Castiel to hear, and Dean laughed.

Dean laughing was not a sound Castiel got to hear particularly often, but he was immediately intoxicated. It was like a chorus of bells, each layer pealing out over the one before it in constant waves of sound. It was at once the most wonderful thing Castiel had ever heard, and the worst.

Castiel had never been able to make Dean laugh like that. He's never been able to make Dean laugh at all, come to think of it. Not even a dry, angry chuckle. No, for Castiel there were only glares, angry muttering, then longs sad looks. And if Alfie could make Dean laugh like that, then more power to him. He was clearly a better man than Castiel was. Castiel should do the right thing: he should let Dean out of the deal, sign him in for his work job every day, an watch Dean be happy with one of Castiel's best friends.

He left before either boy could see him.

****

Dean wasn't at lunch that day, but Alfie was. He looked happy, which only served to make Castiel even more upset. Luckily, Balthazar noticed the look and accidentally-on-purpose shunned Alfie to the end of the table, as far from Castiel as possible.

It was still, somehow, completely impossible to miss catching a glimpse of Alfie's happy smile every time Castiel leaned forward .

He left lunch early that day.

****

Castiel cornered Dean before practice that afternoon. "Listen, Winchester-"

"My name's Dean."

"Um, yeah. I know."

Dean rolled his eyes. "So why don't you use it every now and then? You know, if you really want people to think we're dating and all that, it would probably help."

"Uh, yeah, listen Winchester, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. This whole deal we made...it's not really fair for me to ask that of you, so if you want, we can call it off, and I'll just sign you in for your job every morning."

Dean blinked a few times before bursting out laughing. It was a dry, rough laugh, not a happy one, but Castiel'd take his victories where he can get them.

"Oh, Cas. Not fair? I'd say not, no. Not really. But then, you've never really been in the market of 'treating me fair'. Why start now? No, I'm good. I'll keep the deal. I've already started planning out breakup." Dean leaned closer to Castiel, so he was whispering in the boy's ear. "It'll be spectacular, don't worry." Turning, Dean let out another savage barking laugh as he sauntered away towards the field. Castiel stared after him in disbelief.

Fair to say, he royally screwed up in practice that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly: two chapters in one day? Crazy. This fic is just driving me wile until I get it al out.
> 
> Secondly, to everyone who left kudos and comments: THANK YOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!! You're all so sweet and wonderful and lovely and perfect and wonderful and...oh... :/
> 
> Thirdly, regarding parts of the weeks. Right now my plan is to actually just right a couple parts per week for a good actual six weeks. I would find that rather impressive (for me, because I have a very short attention span). This could, however, all just come out, and I could end the fic in three weeks. You know, if I actually focused...
> 
> Fourth(ly??) and finally: I hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments, kudos, love, the whole shebang.
> 
> Thanks and love!


	3. Week One, Part Three

Castiel had been at breakfast for about twenty minutes, grumpily signing people in and gulping down coffee, when Dean and Alfie came in. Together. As in, laughing and smiling, and together. “Morning, Castiel. I’m here.” Alfie’s usual morning greeting was ignored in lieu of staring at Dean.

Dean smiled down at Castiel, a beautiful shit-eating grin. “Hey, Cas. What’s cookin’?”

“Not much, babe.” He didn’t miss the slight grimace that covered Dean’s features. “Sit down, why don’t you. I’m sure Alfie could get you some food.” Castiel looked pointedly at the sophomore, who was scurrying to do his friend’s bidding when Dean stopped him with a hand on the arm.

“Don’t worry about if, Alf. I’ll get my own food. You want a bagel or something?” Alfie nodded gratefully and slumped into the chair beside Castiel. “Yeah...how ‘bout some hot chocolate, too?” At the mention of his favorite drink, Alfie perked up, smiling broadly at Dean, who returned the favor easily. “What about you, Cas? More coffee? Hot chocolate? Tea?” He didn’t even wait for Castiel to respond before moving on. “You know, I think I’ll get you some tea. Better for you than coffee, you know?” He turned, practically gliding away across the lunch room to the hot drink machines.

Castiel turned pointedly to his friend, fixing him with a glare. “So. Alfie. Did you know that Dean and I are dating?” Alfie looked up at his friend, a confused wrinkle momentarily creasing his brow.

“Oh. That’s good.” He sounded hesitant. Too hesitant. “Just…”

 _Ah-ha_! Castiel leaned forward a little bit. “Just what?” Alfie looked down, away from Castiel, clenching his jaw a little and swallowing. “Alfie...tell me.”

“Just...I thought Dean...kinda hated you.” The last three words came out in a rush, and clearly the look on Castiel’s face was not a good one, because Alfie rushed to rectify his statement. “It’s just...you know, ever since you, and the homework and all...but this is great! Really, good for you. I mean, haven’t you been...you know...since, like, forever?” Castiel raised an eyebrow, waiting for Alfie to somehow dig himself out of this hole he was in. “It’s just...back in October-before I knew, I swear-I...I asked Dean out myself.” There was a flash of heat to Castiel’s face: _how DARE Alfie ask out Dean, how DARE he? What was he thinking? Was he insane? Castiel was going to KILL him!_ “Castiel! Look, he...he turned me down, ok. Said he didn’t like me that way. But he also said that he-this is a quote, I swear-‘would never date one of you Angels, _especially_ not that dick Castiel’.” Alfie looked away again, hiding from what he was sure would be Castiel’s angry wrath.

Castiel leaned back, away from Alfie, eyes roaming the lunch room until the landed on Dean. He looked perfectly happy and relaxed waiting for Alfie’s bagel to be finished. On the table next to him sat three mugs, two with tea bags, one without. Castiel allowed a small smile to sneak across his face at the picture of domesticity Dean provided. Turning back to Alfie, he let the smile fall. “So, this morning, you two were…?”

Alfie sighed. “In the library. Every Wednesday Dean gets to school early to tutor me in Physics.” Castiel stared at him, almost incredulous. “He’s really good. Loves mechanics and stuff like that. Wants to be an engineer.”

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Dean appeared behind Castiel, gently setting the mugs down on the table. He rotated Castiel’s mug so that the handle was facing his right, making it easier for him to grab on to.

Castiel tilted his head back and up to smile at Dean, surprised when Dean took the extra step of placing a feather-light kiss to his lips. “Thanks, babe.” Dean smiled, sitting down catty-cornered to his...boyfriend. The hesitation and regret was clear in his eyes: _he’s just playing the part, Castiel. Keep it together_. Castiel swallowed, fighting to keep the happy smile on his face. “So, how’d tutoring go this morning?”

Dean cocked his head inquisitively at Alfie, who shrugged in a ‘whatever’ kind of way. It irked Castiel that they had their own language after only knowing each other for three months. It REALLY irked him. “It was...fine. Alfie’s doing great.” At this Alfie openly laughed, making Dean chuckle. “Yeah, ok...Alfie’s pretty horrible at Physics, but he’s doing a lot better, which is the important thing.”

“It’s all you Dean. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” _Wow, Alfie, tone it down a little bit, ok?_ Castiel looked at Alfie, a half-incredulous, half-pissed off look on his face. Alfie swallowed, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Actually, you know what, I think I’ll eat breakfast in my room today. K? Bye!” Alfie practically sprinted out of the lunch room, leaving Dean and Castiel alone at their table.

They sat in silence for about ten minutes, sipping their teas calmly, just watching the people come and go as they signed in for breakfast, before Castiel spoke. “So. Tutoring?”

Dean shrugged. “Just another way to make money, man. I mean, if you want...I could help you. If you...need help with anything.” Dean looked intently at Castiel, making Castiel feel as though the boy could see into his soul.

“No. I...I think I’m good.” Dean nodded, pursing his lips and standing.

“I gotta go, Cas, ok? I’ve got a bit of homework left to do. I’ll see you in history.” Running a hand through Castiel’s hair, Dean walked away and out of the lunch room, leaving Castiel feeling that he’d done something really, REALLY wrong.

****

It was in history that Castiel realized what he needed to do. They’d just been assigned a monster assignment, one that Castiel knew he could never get done by himself. He was horrible at history, just couldn’t get all those random dates and facts to stick in his head. It was why he’d needed someone else to do the homework for him. Dean approached him after class, notebook in hand to write down whatever Castiel wanted his assignment done on.

Castiel had taken one look at this boy who was pretending to be his boyfriend, and sighed. “Dean, could I ask you a favor?” Dean just raised an eyebrow at him. “Could you...could you help me with the assignment?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Not much more than I usually do, no.”

“No, that’s not what I--I _meant_ \--look, dates and names and places and stuff like that don’t really stick in my head very well. So I was wondering if you would HELP me with the assignment, maybe drill the facts and stuff.” The implied ‘I’m begging here man, help me out’ was loud and clear.

Dean tilted his head in an almost uncanny impersonation of Castiel, giving the shorter boy a calculating look. Suddenly, he flipped his notebook shut and smiled blindingly at Castiel. “Why Cas, I thought you’d never ask.”

He even allowed Castiel to hold his hand on the way to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, guys, you gave me so much love...I didn't know what to do, so I...well, I wrote this. It's not my favorite thing I've ever written, but..ya know...I like it. Oh well. If you don't, then I'm sorry.


	4. Week One, Part Four

“Dean! Dean, wake up! Wake up, it’s Saturday!” Dean rolled over and groaned, trying desperately to shove his little brother off of him. “De-ean! It’s Saturday, you HAVE to wake up!” _What?_

“Sammy, you do realize that ‘Saturday’ and ‘wake up’ don’t exactly go together, right? Because usually on Saturdays I sleep as long as possible. Remember?” Dean’s eyes were still closed, but he could actually feel Sam’s bitchface boring into his skull.

Sam pounced onto his brother’s stomach, full-on laying on him. “But Dean, it’s Saturday! You have to take me to school!”

“Look, I’ll get up if you get the hell off.” Immediately, Sam leaped off his brother. Dean sat up, groaning as he rubbed his eyes. “ By the way, why are you only talking in exclamations today?” Sam shrugged, smirking. He blinked widely, trying to dislodge all the sleep in the corners of his eyes. “Remind me again why the fuck I’m taking you to school?”

Sam rolled his eyes, bitchfacing again. “Your school, Dean. I have my interview today, remember? We need to be there in like an hour. Look, I’ll go make you some breakfast and coffee-”

“Tea!”

“Tea, yes, I’ll make you some tea, and you just get dressed and we’ll go, ok?” Sam was gone before Dean could reply, allowing the older boy the momentary comfort of flopping back down into his bed before heaving himself up into the colder air of his room.

What kind of kid did his school interview in December? That’s what Dean wanted to know. He was pretty sure he’d done his in like, March. Whatever, Sammy had always been a bit of a weird one; brilliant, but weird.

"Dean!" Sam's voice echoed up through the house, making Dean glad that his parents were at work, they wouldn't be woken by the boy's yelling. "Breakfast!" _How the hell had he made breakfast so fast?_

Pulling on an old grey Henley and a pair of jeans, Dean forced himself out of his room and down the stairs. "Alright, bitch, what's for breakfast?" Sam grinned, pointing to an old canteen and a container. Lifting the lid, Dean matched Sam's grin watt for watt. "Alright Sammy, you saved the pie for me? Good job, man."

Sam deftly blocked Dean's attempted hair-ruffle, rolling his eyes. "Jerk. You should really branch out. The chocolate cake was delicious."

"Nah man, pie's the way the only real way." Dean wa sitting down at the table, preparing to dig into his long-awaited blackberry pie when he glanced up at Sam. He looked nervous and was shifting from foot to foot impatiently. Dean looked down at his pie and sighed. "You know what, we'll probably hit traffic, let's go. I'll eat at school while I wait for you to ace your interview."

"Really?" The excited look on Sam's face was enough to tell Dean he'd made the right choice.

"Yeah man, come on, let's go. Get in the car, turn the heaters on. I'll pack all this shit to go and be right there." Tossing Sam the keys, Dean stood, rummaging through a cabinet to find a Tupperware container for his pie.

 

They made it to the interview with twenty minutes to spare.

Dean had left Sammy in the capable hands of Betsy the receptionist with strict instructions to text him as soon as the interview was over, and gone off to find a nice place to sit and enjoy his pie and Vonnegut.

He'd ended up in the science building near the engineering lab, in a little nook that the robotics team had taken over a few years back. There were over-stuffed couches, a few ugly armchairs, antique coffee tables, and a lamp made from bits of an old robot. Dean loved it. He was curled up in his favorite chair: an ugly green paisley thing that was so comfortable it was sinful, plate of pie on his lap, and was fifty pages deep into Galápagos when he was found.

"Hello, Dean." Dean blinked slowly; he'd heard the approaching footsteps, but had been praying they wouldn't bother him. He turned, sighing, there was no mistaking that voice:

"Cas, hey."

Castiel tilted his head in that way he'd always done that Dean had always found annoyingly adorable. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Dean's eyebrows came together for a moment before he grasped what Castiel was saying. "What, Cas? It's a nickname. I like nicknames, give 'em to everybody."

"Everybody? Even people you don't speak to?"

"Oh yeah, especially them, cause they'll never find out."

Cas sat down in the leather armchair across from Dean's paisley monstrosity. "Well, you'll have to tell me all about that later."

“Mm.” Dean had leaned towards Castiel in a conspiratorial fashion, but he now leaned back into his chair, taking a contemplative bite of his pie.

"Dean, are you eating pie for breakfast?" He looked up from his pie to see Castiel staring at him curiously.

He smirked. "Yeah. Best damn pie in the state if you ask me." He took another bite, eyes falling shut in appreciation of the taste.

"Could I have a bite? I've never had pie." Dean's eyes snapped open, finding Castiel's with an unerring accuracy. He wasn't normally one to share his pie-scratch that, Dean had never shared his pie, EVER-but to never have tried it at all? That was a travesty Dean just couldn't allow.

Grudgingly, he held the pie-laden fork out to Castiel. "Fair warning though: if you don't like it and this bite goes unappreciated, I'll never forgive you." Castiel nodded seriously, staring into Dean's eyes as though his life depended on it. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other."

He gestured with the fork, silently telling Castiel to get on with it already. Obligingly, Castiel wrapped his lips around the fork, his eyes fluttering closed as he pulled the pie off the tongs. He chewed for a few moments, then swallowed, his face a mask of pure bliss. Then, as though it were an afterthought, Castiel licked his lips slowly, making sure there were no crumbs left untasted. Only after this strange ritual was completed did he open his eyes and smile at Dean.

Dean had never been quite so aroused.

"Thank you, Dean. That was quite wonderful." Oh right, real life going on here, not porn. Focus, Winchester.

Dean coughed lightly, shooting Castiel his best Han Solo smirk. "Yeah well, it should be. I made it."

"You made this?" The way Castiel was looking at Dean, as though Dean were actually Captain America or something, was making him very uncomfortable.

"Yeah, Cas, I made a pie. Lot's of people do it, even guys." Castiel smiled, obviously about to respond when Dean cut him off. He just couldn't deal with Cas being all nice and Cas-like when Dean knew that in five weeks he'd be back to his normal Castiel self. It was nice and all while it lasted, but it obviously couldn't last long. "Look, Cas, you don't have to be so nice to me. I get that we're fake dating and all-though frankly I'm still not sure why-but you still hate me, and in six weeks I'll go back to being the nerdy guy who does your history homework, and you'll be the popular guy who picks on the nerdy fag. But it'll be worse, because I'll be the nerdy fag who dumped your ass. So just...do me a favor and stop being so nice to me, ok?" Dean stood, his legs shaking a little from the sudden rush of blood. With great effort, he shoved the remains of the pie into Castiel's empty hands. "I have to go get my little brother, ok? I'll see you Monday."  He turned, practically running from the nook, leaving Castiel sitting on the edge of his armchair, clutching a Tupperware container of pie and staring at a slim volume of Vonnegut.

Castiel couldn't have been sitting in the chair long, but it felt like hours when he heard a quiet voice from in front of him say hello. He looked up into the clustered eyes of Alfie.

 

Dean reappeared in the admissions parking lot the moments before his phone buzzed. Then Sam appeared in the door, shielding his eyes against the sun, but still looking excited. Dean waved. "How'd it go?"

"Good, I think. She seemed happy." Sam looked at Dean critically. "Where's the pie? And the tea?"

Dean shrugged. "Finished 'em. Left them in the dishwasher. I'll grab them on Monday."

"Uh-huh. And Vonnegut?"

"Also finished. Left in the library dropbox." Sam looked so annoyingly unconvinced that Dean snapped at him a little bit. "What? I was in a productive mood, ok?" Sam didn't respond, just shot him another bitchface. "Get in the car, you little shit, we're going home. I was thinking waffles."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw...a little bit of feels for the weekend, what more could we ask? I actually sat down to write a happy, fluffy chapter, but then this happened...so...yeah.
> 
> And, oh my god you guys are the best!!!! *gushing waterfalls of love pouring over you all* I feel so loved!!! Thank you for all the support! Y'all are amazing!


	5. Week One, Part Four and a Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little filler chapter because I could, and because, well...I wanted to. Oh, and because plot.

“Hello.” Castiel looked up into Alfie’s confused eyes.

He sighed. “Well, I suppose you heard all that, didn’t you?” When Alfie didn’t respond, instead choosing to look in the direction of his shoes, Castiel coughed out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know why I thought I could keep it a secret. You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?”

“No! No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that to De-to you.” Castiel rolled his eyes at Alfie’s attempted cover and said dryly:

“Your attachment to Dean is astounding.”

Alfie flushed a deep red, stammering his way through an explanation. “It’s just, I’ve known Dean most of my life, and if you...he, were upset, then…” He trailed off, shrugging, clearly not knowing where that sentence had been headed.

Castiel cocked his head to one side, gesturing for Alfie to sit in the couch beside him before he spoke. “Most of your life? I thought you just met in September.”

“Nah, I used to live across the street from him. Me and Sam were best friends, never left each others sides, and of course we just followed Dean around all day. He probably thought we were the most annoying kids.” Alfie chuckled, reminiscing for a moment before continuing with his story. “But then my dad relocated, we moved, I ended up here, and poof, suddenly Dean appears again.” He shrugged, opening his hands in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture. Castiel nodded thoughtfully.

“How long have you liked him?”

Alfie blushed again, ducking his head to avoid meeting Castiel’s eyes. “Since the beginning. But he doesn’t...obviously. I mean, he was never mean about it, just...very clear. It was never an option, not really.”

Castiel leaned over, patting Alfie’s shoulder in an awkward mockery of comfort.

“Anyway, enough about me. I’ll be fine. What about you? You’ve got, what, six weeks to make him fall in love with you?”

“Five weeks.” Castiel’s eyes widened as he sucked in a deep breath, holding it as long as he could before breathing out heavily. “Just five.”

Alfie nodded, clearly thinking. “Okay, we can do five weeks. Five weeks is enough time. The thing about Dean is, he’s a princess. He wants to be wooed. Work him over for a-Castiel?” Castiel was staring at Alfie, somewhere between fascinated and confused. Alfie rolled his eyes. “You should take notes: this is good stuff. Okay, here goes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMIGODOHMIGODOHMIGOD!!! OVER 500 HITS!!!! I LOVE YOU ALL SOOOOO MUCH!!!!! YOU ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!!!!!


	6. Week Two, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Week Two, here we come!!

Cas was waiting when Dean got off the bus, shivering and clutching Dean’s thermos tightly. “Hello, Dean.” He shoved the thermos at Dean, who looked at him suspiciously.

“Cas, we talked about this. The whole nice thing.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Just take it, I spent a lot of time on it this morning.” He waved the thermos in Dean’s direction, immediately tucking his hands into his pockets when the boy took it.

Dean unscrewed the cap, tentatively taking a sip of the black liquid inside. He sighed happily. “Damn, this is good. What is it?”

“Eng-English Breakfast. With honey. Just-just the way you like it.” The short sentence was punctuated with breaks so that Cas could blow hot air onto his freezing hands.

Dean grinned at the boys predicament. “You’re not really a cold weather person, are you Cas?” Cas shook his head, trying to pull his hat further down on his head to stave off the cold winds. “Maybe next time you should go in for gloves. They sell nice ones at the stores downtown. Very warm: leather, lined with sheep wool.”

Cas shot him a glare. “I have gloves. I just forgot them.” Taking a few hurried steps, Cas pulled open the door to the main building, releasing a flood of hot air that had both boys sighing with contentment.

“Mm, in that case, maybe you should get a better hat. You know, one of those really warm ones with the ear flaps that are lined in fur.” Dean was smiling at Cas, enjoying teasing him about the cold. “Ooh! You could get one with football patterns on it.”

Cas rolled his eyes, following Dean as he wandered down the stairs to his locker. “Dean, shut up.”

“Yeah! You could get one of those robber-ski mask things, wear it under the furry football ear hat.”

“Please shut up, Dean.”

“Hey, maybe the ski mask could have footballs on it too, or angel wings. And we could get you a little nose cover-I’m sure they make those. It would be on a string and-”

Dean cut off with a loud thump as Cas pinned him against a wall and stared intently into his eyes. He swallowed thickly. “I asked you to please shut up.” Dean nodded slowly, letting out a breath he hadn’t be aware of holding when Cas released him. “Thank you. Come on, I’ll walk you to your locker.” Castiel stuck his hand out to Dean, wiggling his fingers a little as he did so.

Dean looked down at the offered hand, a sly smile crossing his face. “That hand of yours, it still gives me the creeps.” He grinned at Castiel, taking his hand before noticing his companions confused face. “Christmas Invasion.” Cas blinked blankly. He tried again, hopefully: “Rose Tyler?” Cas blinked slower. “Doctor Who?” Cas gulped and bit his lip before shaking his head. Dean rolled his eyes. “Figures. Too nerdy for you, I suppose.

“Hey, I’ve heard of it! It’s always on your t-shirts.” Dean stared at Castiel, stunned, as the boy rushed on with his words: “Well, not ONLY Doctor Who, there’s also Star Wars and Star Trek,” Cas had begun ticking off the names as he spoke. “AC/DC, Firefly, Metallica, Radiohead, Buffy, The Who, Battlestar Ga-”

“Yeah, okay Cas,” Dean grabbed Cas’ other hand, effectively shutting him up for a moment, chuckling as he did so. “I get it, you spend a lot of time staring at my shirts.”

Cas blushed a little, just a bit of a rosy hue entering his cheeks as he glanced down at their entwined hands, then moved his eyes slowly back to Dean, looking at him through his eyelashes. It was a silent plea, but one Dean still heard loud and clear.

He rolled his eyes. “Kiss me if you must, but make it quick, I have to get my Physics stuff, and you have to get...whatever class you have now.” Cas grinned at Dean’s annoyance, tilting his head up to peck Dean lightly on the mouth.

“I have French.” Pulling away, he brought Dean’s hand up his mouth, kissing it lightly. “Il a été un plaisir, mon cher.”

Dean stared at him before stammering out: “Gratias. Prandium?”

“Oui, bien sûr. Ma table, je pense que vous devriez rencontrer mes amis.” Dean blinked. He hadn’t picked up that much French by helping Sammy, but he’d gotten ‘yes, of course’, ‘my table’, and ‘my friends’. _Did Cas want Dean to officially meet his friends?That would be disastrous._ “Dean? Are you ok?”

“Yeah. Ego valeo. Prandium.” He nodded, then turned to go to his locker. “Vale, Cas.”

“À bientôt, Dean.”

 

To put it nicely, lunch was awkward. Dean had been a few minutes late running from math, and by the time he arrived, the table was full of Angels: Michael, Anna, Balthazar, Rachel, Naomi, Gabriel, Lucifer, Alfie, and of course Castiel was right in the middle of them all. He looked to be completely in his element, laughing and chatting with his friends. It seemed a shame to interrupt them.

Dean was totally prepared to just turn around, walk right out of the lunch room, and eat his food in the robotics lab. He was doing it, in fact, when Cas saw him and shouted: “Dean! Babe, we’re over here!” _Of course you’re over there, Cas. Where the hell else have you been all year?_

People were staring. Dean Winchester didn’t sit with the Angels. Dean Winchester didn’t sit anywhere near the Angels; he sat on the complete opposite side of the room, in the corner by the door and fan, where you couldn’t have conversation at reasonable levels and you were always cold. He liked it. But now everyone was staring at him, noticing him, in a completely different way than they were supposed to. They were _supposed_  to notice him as the nerdy gay guy who gets beat up and harassed in the hallways every day; they were _supposed_ to notice him as the guy who got straight A’s because he had to get a scholarship to a good school so he could be an engineer; they were _supposed_ to notice him as captain of the robotics team. They were definitely _not_ supposed to notice him as ‘babe’.

But he could deal with it; he was a Winchester. He’d practically been trained for moments like this: _head high, shoulders back, and walk_. Loosening his features into a smile, he sauntered (or attempted to, at least) back towards the Angels’ table. When he reached Cas, he forced the smile bigger, leaned down, and kissed Cas soundly on the lips. Pulling back, he shoved the smile into a grin. “Salve.”

“Bonjour,” was murmured into his ear before Cas pulled him round and kissed him again. The two pulled apart, determinedly ignoring the whispers coming from all around them, including from the Angels themselves. Cas turned, glaring at them all, and they silenced immediately, moving apart to allow Dean a seat next to Cas.

They were allowed eat in silence for maybe two minutes before Gabriel piped up a question. “Seriously?”

Dean raised an eyebrow at the sophomore. “Seriously.” Then went back to eating his burger.

Naomi was next: “So, Dean. What are you planning to do with your life?”

“Um, I want to be an engineer. Or an architect. Maybe work as a mechanic for a little while in college, you know, in case I don’t get a scholarship.” He smiled at her, a big, shit-eating grin. She raised an eyebrow at him, not in the friendly way Dean had done to Gabriel, put in a very judgy way that Dean didn’t like.

“Oh.” Was all she said. Dean glanced at Castiel, who was rolling his eyes in annoyance. Upon seeing Dean’s gaze on him, Castiel grabbed his hand and squeezed, apparently trying to comfort him.

It went on like that for the next thirty minutes: horrid, probing, interrogative questions from the Angels (except Alfie, who looked like he was in extreme pain and kept leaving to refill things) and comforting touches and looks from Cas.

It sucked.

They were leaving the lunch room, Cas was walking Dean to the library where he was going to tutor a freshman in math, when Dean turned to Cas and asked seriously: “Is it always like that? The twenty questions and the ‘better-than-thou’ attitudes?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Dean sighed, raking a hand through his hair, making it more spiky (and more attractive, if you asked Castiel) than before.

“Great...that’s, great. Awesome.” Dean nodded, then leaned over and kissed Cas’ cheek.

Cas blushed furiously. “Dean!”

“Dude, we just made out in the middle of lunch, I’m pretty sure everyone is now aware of our ‘relationship’.” Dean could see that his inflection had stung, and he pushed down the little hurt that came with hurting Cas to be happy in his small victory against this silliness. “Just...let’s eat at my table tomorrow, ok?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The translations, in case you can't read both French and Latin:   
> 'It was my pleasure, my dear.'  
> 'Thanks. Lunch?'  
> 'Yes, of course. My table, I think you should meet my friends.'  
> 'Yeah. I'm fine. Lunch...Bye, Cas.'  
> 'See you later, Dean.'
> 
> 'Hello.'  
> 'Hello.'
> 
> Erm, yeah. That's it, that's all of them.
> 
> Anyhoo, SWEET JESUS CHRIST 600 HITS???? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE AND WHY DO YOU LOVE ME?? (not that i don't love it, i do, it's just that no one loves me this much). So basically, thanks. 
> 
> P.S. Did you like my little Doctor Who cameo??? Huh? Huh? Awww, yeah...
> 
> Pleeeease keep leaving kudos and comments, good or bad, I'll take 'em.


	7. Week Two, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lunch, protective Jo, nerdy Charlie, and Ash. Oh...and a kiss.

Dean had a robotics meeting at lunch on Tuesday, so they didn’t get to eat together. However, in the spirit of getting to know Dean's friends, and getting help with the Dean situation, Cas- _Cas, when had he started thinking of himself as Cas?_ -decided to eat at Dean’s table by himself.

He wasn’t completely sure it had been his best idea.

Well, no, he was pretty sure it was a GREAT idea, but he didn’t really enjoy the way people had stared at him as he crossed the front of the lunch room. Of course, being himself, he had only raised an eyebrow at the teeming masses and they fell silent. Is this how Dean felt yesterday? Probably. Cas sighed, pushing himself towards one of the only two empty seats at a table which, by all natural means, should have been completely empty. Why would anyone WANT to sit at the nerd table?

He placed his plate onto the table in front of one of the empty chair, pausing his unspoken words when nine heads turned instantly towards him, staring intently. “What?” A young blonde girl was looking at him archly, as though daring him to ask for the seat. He swallowed.

“Um, hi. I’m Castiel Nova-”

“Yeah, we know _that_. What do you want?”

“Jo!” A young asian boy-Kevin, Cas thought his name was-shot the blonde girl an angry look, while somehow managing to look mortified.

The girl rolled her eyes. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“Uh...yeah. I was just wondering if I could sit here?” Cas swallowed anxiously, the intended statement coming out as more of a question than he’d intended it to. “You know, if that’s ok with you guys.”

They all stared at Castiel for a moment, before turning towards each other and speaking in hushed tones. It looked as though they were having a silent argument, and that it was pretty much all of them against the defensive blonde girl. She must hold a lot of sway in her friend group to be holding up an entire group argument like that.

Castiel could feel people staring at him, and forced himself to keep looking at the table, not to glance around. Suddenly, the blonde girl let out a loud sigh, slapping her palm on the table emphatically. “God, you guys are annoying.” She turned to Cas, a fake smile plastered on her face. “Fine. Sit, if you must.”

“Thanks.” He sat, soaking up the awkward silence the table had settled into. He’d expected a barrage of questions, as had been directed at Dean the day before. Instead, they all ate in total silence, shooting each other meaningful glances.

It was only after they had all finished eating that they all simultaneously stacked their plates on the tray in the middle of the table, in an order that was clearly long-established, and turned to Cas. A mullet sporting boy spoke first. “So. Castiel Novak, huh? Well, I’m Ash, this here’s Chuck, his girlfriend Becky, Garth, Kevin, Charlie, Benny, and the angry blonde’s my sister Jo.” He pointed at each table member in turn, the specified person nodding a silent greeting. Apparently solidarity was a thing amongst nerds. “you the popular boy dating Dean?”

“Um, yeah. I am.” Cas smiled at the table, hoping to aleve some of the apparent anger they fostered towards him. Ash just nodded at him, thoughtfully.

The redhead, Charlie, leaned forward on the table. “Cas, I have a few very important questions Keep in mind that if you answer wrong that I’ll be putting in my recommendation that Dean break up with you.” Cas swallowed, clenching his jaw tightly. She raised an eyebrow slightly. “Doctor Who or Sherlock?”

 _Um, what?_ “Sherlock.”

“Kirk or Spock?”

“Spock.” _Just answer truthfully, it’s the best way._

“Star Trek or Star Wars?”

“Ah, I’ve never seen either but I read the Star Trek books, so...Star Trek.”

“Firefly or Battlestar?”

“Probably Firefly. I love Nathan Fillion.”

“Music?”

“Classical.”

“Class?”

“Uh, language.”

Charlie nodded thoughtfully. She looked around the rest of the table, as though daring the others to dispute her findings-whatever the hell her findings were. As if on command, everyone stood and left the lunch room, leaving Cas with the tray.

 

“So, Cas, heard you met the family today.” Cas was walking Dean to the robotics lab before he headed off to basketball, as it was the only chance they’d had to talk all day.

He stared at the slightly taller boy, head tilted slightly to the side. “You mean your friends? ‘Cause I had lunch with them this afternoon.”

Dean chuckled. “Always an experience. I heard you passed Charlie’s test with flying colors.”

“Did I? I have to admit, I was expect something more…”

“Intense?” Cas nodded, grinning. “Yeah, at least Jo didn’t do the questioning. She’s brutal. But yeah, apparently their only real problem with you was that you’ve never seen Star Wars-which, by the way, what the HELL?-so they couldn’t ask you who shot first.”

Cas looked at Dean, blinking slowly in confusion. “Um, no. No, that didn’t come up.”

Dean swung an arm over Cas’ shoulders, pulling him in close and turning their faces towards each other to look him conspiratorially in the eyes. “Well, for future reference, it was Han. Ok? Han shot first. Can you remember that?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course I can.” He grinned at Dean’s happy expression, leaning over to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Mm, nothing like a study reward.”

“So, what? I’m like the gummi bears you put at the end of each paragraph to get through your history readings?’ Cas blushed a little.

“How did you know about that?”

“Well, Cas, I did help you study, and you kept putting gummi bears at the end of every paragraph. Mostly that’s how.” Cas rolled his eyes again, mostly just for effect this time. Dean glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, doing that little rabbit thing with his mouth that he does when he thinks. “Hey, Cas? When’s your first basketball game?”

Cas seemed almost confused by the question, as though he couldn’t figure out why Dean would want to know, _which, actually, he couldn’t._ “Um, the next Wednesday. Why?”

“Uh…” Dena removed his arm from Cas’ shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck as though he were embarrassed. “Just, you know...I was thinking about...you know..going.” Cas glanced at him, startled.

“You...want to come to my basketball game?”

Dean shrugged. “Well, you know...gotta support the school, right?”

Cas nodded, doing his best impersonation of Dean’s shit-eating grin. “You want to come to my basketball game.”

“No...just...shut up.” Cas just grinned at him. “Really, just...hmph. If I kiss you, will you shut up?” Cas made a face as though thinking through Dean’s question was causing him serious debate. Then he nodded.

Rolling his eyes, Dean leaned in to kiss Castiel, just going for something soft and short, but was pulled into a full embrace: one of Cas’ hands on the back of his head, the other holding his waist tightly; Cas’ lips moving against his until he gave into the motion, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck. It felt really, _really_ nice. Way better than it was supposed to feel. Dean wasn’t supposed to feel anything for Cas: it was just supposed to be, well nothing. It wasn't supposed to be anything at all. But it was, and it sucked.

It didn’t last particularly long, but after they broke apart, Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, pressing their foreheads together. After several moments of long, heavy breathing, Cas sighed happily. “Have fun at robotics, Dean. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dean was still standing in the doorway of the science building when Castiel disappeared into the gym, just thinking about the kiss. The stupid kiss that wasn’t supposed to have meant anything, wasn’t supposed to feel like anything, but had felt really, really nice. _None of the others had felt like that! It wasn’t fair!_

 _Focus, Winchester! Just five more weeks and you’ll be free of this clown. Just five weeks. Focus on the breakup._ And yet he kept coming back to that stupid kiss.

Damn Castiel Novak and his damn talented mouth and his damn kissing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much exactly what it says on the tin. If you were expecting something else, then you were disappointed, sorry. But you were warned, so...not really sorry, actually.
> 
> PLEEEEEASE KEEP LEAVING LOVE!!! IT MAKES ME VERY HAPPY!!!!


	8. Week Two, Part Two and a Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor baby Dean. And then...malicious scheming Dean. But mostly poor baby Dean.

Okay, so Dean hadn’t actually had a robotics meeting during lunch, he’d been avoiding Cas. Not that Cas had actually done anything-yet. But because...well, ok, he was avoiding Cas. If he went to lunch he'd have to see Cas.

And he just couldn’t do that, not right now.

He’d been settling down in the nook in the science center to do homework (he’d definitely NOT been lamenting the fact that there’d been no sign of Cas shivering and clutching a mug of tea for Dean that morning. At all.) when he’d heard footsteps behind him, paired with an oh-so-familiar “Hey, Fag.”

Alistair.

While not actually one of Cas’ friends, he was the crony of one of Cas’ brothers: Lucifer. _Figures that the one named after the devil would be the one with a malicious best friend_. He was Dean’s main torturer, though interestingly, never in front of Cas himself. Alistair was vicious, rarely physically hurting Dean, just slowly tearing him apart piece by piece with only his words. It was as though he’d made a careful study on the best words to use to break a person’s spirit, or to take them way up high on cloud nine, only to bring them crashing straight back down, farther down than they’d been before.

And Dean was his favorite toy.

Dean had long since learned to get vocal as quickly as possible, as Alistair seemed to take more victory from the game if he tried not to say anything. The quicker he began to cry--or scream, if he’d taken to hitting him--the quicker the punishment was over.

“Hey!” Alistair’s strong hand grabbed Dean’s head, forcing it around to face him. “I said hello. I’m trying to be polite here. Where are your manners, boy?”

“Hi.” Dean’s answer was sullen, angry. “If you’re being so polite, could we do this later so I can finish my homework?”

Alistair laughed, a cruel sound. He moved his hand from Dean’s head to his shoulder, though the pressure had stayed exactly the same, if not increased. “Oh Dean, how I love it when you get angry. You’re such a feisty little one, aren’t you?” He smirked, leaning down to examine Dean’s features. “And how...pretty. Girls would kill for looks like you got.” He ran a finger down Dean’s cheek, making Dean curl his lip up in distaste. “Damn, the things I could do to a face like that. But I can’t be doing that can I? No, Cassie-boy’d be mad. Gotta have his boy-toy looking pretty, don’t he?” Alistair moved to sit on the coffee table, shoving all Dean’s schoolwork onto the floor. “So Dean, tell me about your relationship with Castiel. How’d it happen?” He looked at Dean expectantly. Dean swallowed.

“Well, um, I got to school early one day, He was in the history classroom when I walked in, and he started talking to me.” Dean swallowed again, praying that Alistair was buying his bullshit. “I thought it was pretty weird, so I let him keep talking, you know, see where he was going with it, and then all the sudden he just...asked me out. I said no, but he was pretty persuasive, so I said that I’d give him a trial run. And here we are.” He held out his hands and shrugged. “But it seems to be going really well, I mean-”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure that after lunch yesterday, the whole school knows just how well it’s going.” Dean flushed a little, confused by how nice Alistair was being. Maybe this was a perk of being Cas’ boyfriend.

Or maybe he should really have seen the other shoe about to drop. “But Dean, really, you can’t actually expect this to last, can you? I mean, you and I know that you’ve been in love with Castiel since you came to this school, and you know what? Everyone else knows it too. Even Castiel.” Dean looked at him, horrified. He opened his mouth to respond, but Alistair cut him off before he could. “I mean really, Cas isn’t even gay. He’s been dating girls for years. Do you honestly think Castiel just became gay overnight because of you? Do you really think he’d fall for the nerd who does his history homework? This isn’t a Disney movie, Dean, this is real life. He’s been planning this for weeks, him and Samandriel. It’ll only be a matter of weeks before he breaks up with you, you know that.” Alistair’s face was totally straight, bordering on sympathetic, as though he actually felt bad about what he was saying to Dean. “He’ll convince you he’s in love with you, make you expose your secrets, tell your hopes and dreams, and just when you think you’re on cloud nine, he’ll tear you apart, breaking your heart in a thousand ways that you didn’t even know existed. He’ll destroy the parts of you that even you didn’t know you had.”

“He wouldn’t. Why...why would he do that.” The look Alistair gave him was actually sympathetic, which was weird and made Dean uncomfortable.

“Dean, Dean, Dean. Do you really think I came like this? I had to be taught by someone, didn’t I?”

Dean swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. “How do you know? How do you know any of this?”

“Luci is Castiel’s favorite brother. There’s not one part of his life that Castiel doesn’t tell him.” Dean sank back in his chair, a stunned look on his face. Alistair stood, smoothing down his pants, and patted Dean’s shoulder. “Just do yourself a favor, Dean: run. As soon as possible, and don’t go falling in love with Castiel Novak.”

  
So that’s why Dean didn’t go to lunch. He was avoiding Cas. But not because he had decided to take Alistair’s advice, per se, he’d just decided to alter it a little bit: he was going to get Castiel Novak to fall in love with him, and break his heart first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so, 900 hits? What is this nonsense?
> 
> I love you all!
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated!


	9. Week Two, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduce the family? Why the hell not, right?

Cas was pretty sure the school hated him. If they didn’t hate him, why would they make him give a tour during lunch? He wanted to eat with Dean, savor what short time they had together and implement the next part of the plan to make Dean fall for him. The kiss from Wednesday had been decidedly unplanned, it was really just supposed to be a quick kiss-longer than a peck, but shorter than a ‘snog’, as Balthazar called it-but it had just felt so right. He’d been hoping for a repeat performance either during or after lunch, and had been really looking forward to seeing the dynamic at the nerd table when Dean was there.

But no. Instead he was going to give a tour to a prospective student. In December. In the rain. No lunch, no strange nerds, no Dean.

Life sucks.

He trudged through the wet grass, the rain bouncing loudly off his official school umbrella. Shoving open the door to the admission building, he hung the umbrella carefully on the rack and ruffled his hair to shake out the water that somehow always ended up there.

“Castiel!” Mr. Bates’ voice made Cas turn, his official tour smile sliding onto his features as he looked at the four prospective students standing awkwardly in the admissions office. “Castiel, this is your tour: Hannah, Jamal, Sam, Caroline, and their parents.” Cas smiled at the group, taking the time to single out each member individually. “So, Castiel, I have to go. Take good care of them, now.”

Cas’ smile turned slightly annoyed as he responded: “I always do, sir.” He waited until Mr. Bates was back in his office before turning to the group and beginning to speak.

“Hello. I’m Castiel Novak, and I’ll be your tour guide this afternoon. Before we start, could we just go around and all of you could tell me what grade you’re applying for, and what you’re most interested in studying?”

He nodded to the girl who had been introduced as Hannah. She rolled her eyes. “Tenth grade, theater.” Jamal and Sam were both “Freshman, history.” Caroline rounded off the group with “Freshman, science.”

“Alright, so we’ll start off with the science building since it’s the closest, and I’m assuming that no one wants to be out in the rain for too long!” Everyone in the group at least cracked a smile for his poor humor attempt, except Sam, who was studying Castiel with a strange intensity. It was a little bit creepy. “Well, if you’ll all just follow me, ah, and make sure to pick up umbrella’s before we go out. It’s quite rainy.”

The large group piled out of the admission office, simultaneously opening their umbrellas and walking quickly towards the science building while Cas did his best to give the abridged version of the beginning of the tour. He’d just barely gotten through explaining that their research lab was one of the best in the state (it worked constantly with universities and actual research companies on a daily basis) when Caroline looked at him and asked: “Do you have a robotics team?”

“Yes, actually. The lab is just inside the building if that’s something you’d be interested in seeing.” The girl nodded enthusiastically, practically bounding ahead of the group to run into the science building. Cas made sure to hold the door for each and every member of his tour, sir-ing and ma’am-ing every parent that came through. “This is the Shurley Science Center, built only about two years ago. It has three floors: the basement is middle school classes, the top floor is all the labs, and this central floor is regular classrooms and the robotics lab. If you could just follow me…” Cas led the group through the large halls of the building, passing the nook where he and Dean had fought only a few days before. He couldn’t help but notice that Sam was looking around with great interest, soaking up his surroundings eagerly. _For a kid who wants to study history, he seems rather enamoured of the sciences...maybe he just really loves the school?_

Cas was still talking avidly to his group when he walked them into the lab and heard a familiar voice speaking loudly. “Well we couldn’t to that, could we? It doesn’t make sense to have anything but a light sensor in a place where the lines change every three seconds. Don’t be stupid, a remote control wouldn’t work because we wouldn’t be able to see the lines without installing a camera!” Cas coughed, announcing his presence. Dean didn’t even turn around to acknowledge him. “Yeah, yeah, Cas, in a minute ok? Oh, there’s some pie in the tin on the counter. You weren’t at lunch so I thought you might like it.”

Sam’s intent staring from earlier was back in full force, while his parents just looked amused. The father raised his eyebrow and sighed. Then coughed. Loudly.

As Cas watched, Dean stiffened, turning from where he was avidly tinkering with his robot to face the group. “Mom, can you please stop staring at Cas like that? It’s creepy.”

The, no- _Dean’s_ , mother smiled softly. “So you’re Cas, huh?” Cas nodded hesitantly. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, sweetie. I’ve heard a whole lot.”

“Mom, really? Now? He’s giving a tour. Later.”

She turned her sweet smile on her son. “Pie?”

“Ok, that’s it. Out. Everyone out. Cas, get them out of my lab. They’ve seen it, the only person who cares has seen it, now they can go.” Dean began shepherding the group out of the room. “Goodbye, it’s been lovely to meet you all; Caroline, I hope we can continue this chat next year; Cas, I’ll see you later. Goodbye.” Before slamming the doors and locking them tightly, Dean leaned through the doorway to place a kiss on Cas’ cheek. “Come back later for your pie, Cas.”

With that the doors were promptly closed and locked, leaving Cas and his tour standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at each other awkwardly. After a few silent moments, Cas clapped his hands together, “Well, that’s basically the whole science department in a nutshell, except with teachers. So, unless anyone really wants to see the rest of the building I think we’ll move on. How does the music building sound to everyone?”

****

Cas reappeared nearly an hour later, Dean’s whole family in tow. They’d had to bang on the door a few times before Dean heard them over the music, but that’s what they get for interrupting him during a welding session. Anyone who knew anything knew that Dean always listened to Mötley Crue as loud as possible while welding. Except apparently his family and his ‘significant other’. Apparently they know nothing.

Switching off the music, Dean sat down on a stool, shoving the pie and a fork towards Cas, who had been staring at it since he entered the room. “Here. Eat, you savage.” Cas took a moment to stick his tongue out at Dean and lick his lips, a movement Dean tracked eagerly with his eyes. “So, was the rest of the tour as awkward as it should have been? You, my family, everyone else that saw me kiss you?”

Cas nodded.

John laughed. “Not for me it wasn’t. You should let us meet your boyfriends more often, Dean, if they’re all this easy to have fun with.” Dean groaned. “No, son really. Why don’t you ever bring boys home to meet your mother and me?”

“Because he’s never given one pie before.” Everyone turned to look at Sam, who looked annoyingly proud of himself for having everyone’s attention. “Oh, you all know it’s true, don’t try to deny it.”

“I don’t understand.” Cas swallowed his bite of pie, tilting his head in that (continually annoyingly adorable) way of his. “Why does pie signify that I am of a higher level than any of Dean’s previous relationships?”

Dean chose this moment to intervene. “Never mind, Cas. Just ignore him. He’s an idiot.” Dean glared at his brother, who openly glared right back at him. “Besides, even if that were a real test-which it’s not, it would only count if it were my pie that I gave him. This is crap cafeteria pie.”

Cas nodded. “I had noticed that it doesn’t taste as good as the pie from Saturday.” Dean’s family turned to look at him, eyebrows raised appraisingly.

John whistled. “Excuse me. Saturday?” He chuckled approvingly, earning a small slap from Mary, who simply looked dumbfounded.

“Yes, Saturday.” Cas was either being obnoxious, or was just totally missing Dean’s covert signals to ‘shut the fuck up’. “Dean and I were chatting, I asked for a bite of his pie, and he gave me one. It was quite good.” He smiled up at Dean as he spoke, making Dean’s annoyance evaporate as suddenly as it had appeared. He grinned a slightly goofy grin.

“Yeah, well, I made that. And it was blackberry. It doesn’t get much better than that.” The two stared at each other for a moment, matching grins on their faces, before Dean suddenly remembered that they weren’t alone. “By the way; mom, dad, Cas is coming over this weekend. We’re going to get burgers and bake a pie.”

“Are we?”

“Yes.” The look in Dean’s eyes left absolutely no room for argument, not that anyone would have tried. It’s been long-considered a bad thing to get between a Winchester and what he wants, and right now Dean wanted Cas in his house to bake a pie.

The room was silent for a moment before Sam spoke up. “Just so I’m clear. You two got together last Tuesday, and on Saturday, Dean gave you a bit of his very last piece of blackberry pie?”

“For god’s sake, Sammy, let it go! He’d never had pie before.”

“Yeah, neither had I when I was six, and you still wouldn’t share with me. You had to make a whole new pie.”

“Well, you’re just not as special as Cas is, are you?” Dean slung a protective arm across Cas’ shoulders, squeezing them for a moment before seemingly realizing what he was doing and letting go. Cas shivered from the loss of warmth, and sneezed. Immediately, Dean was holding both his shoulders and looking him right in the eye. “Cas, you ok? You should go back to your room, shower, go to sleep or something.”

Cas rolled his eyes-as did John, Mary, and Sammy. “Dean, I’m fine. I still have several more classes to get through today.” At the mention of classes, Dean sprang straight up, a look of panic growing in his eyes. “Dean? What’s wrong?”

Dean was bouncing around the robotics lab, grabbing up seemingly random notebooks and binders, slamming them into his Nerdfighters backpack. “I totally forgot about class! I got so wrapped up in my welding, and...I forgot about class! What if they fail me? What am I going to do? What if we had a pop quiz in Latin? Oh god, what did I do? What have I done? Will they kick me out of school? Cas, I can’t-MMPH!” Cas cut Dean off mid sentence with a quick kiss.

“Dean. Calm down. Go to class, explain what happened. You’ll be fine. Ok? Calm down. Are you calm?” Dean nodded, taking deep, slow breaths. “Good. I’ll walk you back to your class, ok?” Dean nodded again. It seemed to come easier this time. “Mr. and Mrs. Winchester, Sam, it was lovely to meet you. If you’ll excuse us, I have to get him back to class before he has a panic attack.” Ushering Dean out the door, Cas raised his arm in a final farewell to Dean’s family, and left them stranded in the robotics lab.

****

Mary looked at her husband, who looked a little shell-shocked. “I like him. What do you think?”

John looked back his wife. “He give the boy his pie. After what? Five days. He’s gotta be something special.”

“Good. Sammy, thoughts?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Did you not see that? They’re perfect for each other.”

“Good, so we’re all in agreement.” The whole family, of course, knew about the ‘relationship’. Dean had complained to Sam, who in turn had told his parents. “We can’t let them break up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, because midnight is totally the best time to be writing un-beta-read stories. THAT was a good plan.
> 
> Anyhoo, please tell me if you like it, love it, hate it, anything and anywhere in between. I'll take it all and treasure it all.
> 
> ALSO (ok, has anyone else noticed that my notes just seem to go ON and ON. They never end...) I would like to say thanks to everyone who has read this story at all, because I have over a thousand hits, which is about a thousand more than I thought I'd get...so just, thanks. Y'alls support means a whole lot to me, it really does.
> 
> LOVE!!!!


	10. Week Two, Pre-Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of part four, because part four was hella-fucking long, and needed to be two parts.

Dean was awakened suddenly on Saturday morning by his ringtone. “Whoever the fuck this is, they better have a good fucking reason for waking me up so early.”

“I have no pity for you, warmups started nearly half an hour ago.” Cas’ voice was dry and unamused on the other end of the line. “I was just calling to make sure you remembered to come after the tournament.”

“You called me at-” He had to pause to look at his clock, “Eight thirty in the morning to ask me if I was coming to pick you up at noon?”

Dean could actually hear Cas rolling his eyes.

“Well yes, since the first game starts in twenty minutes and I don’t know when my next real break is going to be. Oh, and are you _sure_ it’s ok if I sleep at your house tonight?”

 _Um, no._ “Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t have invited you if it wasn’t fine.” _Or if my parents weren’t so annoying._ “So yeah, Cas. Bye. I’ll see you later.” Dean had barely gotten the words out before he terminated the call, closing his eyes and dropping the cell phone to his forehead lightly. He’d never be able to get to sleep again now, he was physically incapable of taking naps. It would be better to just get up and get on with the day. _Fuck._

****

Cas stared at his phone, sighing at the screen flashing ‘Dean Winchester’ repeatedly. He wondered why Dean had hung up like that; probably to get back to sleep, it was early after all. Normally Cas would never be awake at this hour, preferring to sleep until at least ten whenever he could. He’d been hoping, however, that since he’d woken Dean up and reminded him about the tournament, that maybe Dean would actually show up. Dean had seemed more open about the idea of their relationship lately, taking the initiative to invite Cas not just home for Saturday, but for Saturday _and_ Sunday; well, that must mean something. Cas would have to talk to Alfie later.

“Novak!” Coach had noticed him standing by his bag, staring contemplatively at the phone. “Get your ass in gear and get moving!”

“Yessir!”

****

“Dean? What are you doing up? Is it the apocalypse?” Dean rolled his eyes at his mother’s teasing, giving her a light kiss on the cheek in lieu of a greeting.

“Nah, nothing like that. Just thought I’d go see Cas’ basketball game today before I brought him home.”

Mary smiled at her oldest son as he moved around the kitchen. “I’m glad you’ve found someone, Dean. He seems like a nice boy.”

“Mom, you know this’ll never last, right? The jock and the nerd? It’s like something from a...a Disney movie!” Dean’s brows furrowed as he dug into the tea cabinet. “Mom, where’s the Earl Grey?”

“I think I drank it all. But Dean, really, you can’t give up on the relationship before you’ve given it a chance. It could work out.” Dean snorted. “I mean it! I was a nerd in school and your father was a jock, and look at us.” Mary looked away from her eldest to fill the kettle with water.

Dean’s words sounded sad as he responded. “Yeah, but you two are special. You’re like...soul mates.”

“Oh Dean...just give it a chance. It’ll work out for the best, I promise.”

Silence settled over the kitchen. Finally, Mary turned to look at Dean, who was staring, blank-eyed, at the tea cabinet. When she touched his arm, he jumped a little, turning towards her with a smile. “Oolong or Lady Grey?”

****

Cas loved basketball. That was a fact. It was his favorite sport, it was perfect for him. He had to work at football and lacrosse, but in basketball it all just clicked. Something about the easy way the ball moved from player to player, bouncing back to his hand every time he slammed it to the ground, the light swish of a perfect three-pointer. It all clicked for Cas, and it showed.

He was the star player of the Varsity team, and since he’d joined his freshman they’d only lost one game. They’d won the championship the last six years, and for the last two it had been Cas’ pleasure to lead his team to that victory.

Off the court he was Castiel, popular kid who wasn’t doing amazing grade-wise, but as soon as he was inside the paint he was Cas, through-and-through. He hadn’t realized it before the nickname became a part of his life, but now he got that Cas was his true self--the self that only came through when he was totally in the zone. Before, the person who roamed the school halls was a nameless, faceless person who had no real purpose in life, and Castiel was the basketball player.

Nope, not anymore.

And he only had to be Castiel for about fifteen more seconds-just enough time to run through the banner and catch a ball from Coach. Then he could be Cas again.

Only this time it didn’t matter as much because Dean wouldn’t be there to see it.

****

Dean slammed a hand on the steering wheel, cursing his bad luck. He’d gotten stuck in traffic, stuck for twenty minutes behind a stupid tractor-trailer who couldn’t figure out how to make a tight left turn. Then, when he finally got to school, the entire parking lot had been full At this point he’d circled the lot ten times.. Eventually he just parked in an empty driveway across the road, hoping that the people never came home.

Glancing at his watch, Dean swore. He was fifteen minutes late for the game. He wasn’t entirely sure how long the typical basketball game lasted, but it was probably longer than fifteen minutes. Right? _Shit._ Dean sprinted towards the gym, slipping through a side door that landed him beside the team bleachers.

A look at the scoreboard told him that a) he wasn’t too late (there were 3 minutes left in the second quarter), b) Cas was winning (by a sizeable margin: 26-10), and c) Cas wasn’t playing terribly well. This last one was pure supposition, as he’d never been to a basketball game before; but he’d heard tales of Cas’ prowess on the court, and apparently usually had the score up to at least 35 by halftime.

Dean watched as Cas ran up the court, bouncing the ball against the ground (dribbling, he thought the movement was called), before pulling up at some round line that seemed impossibly far from the basket and throwing the ball. He gasped in anticipation, but it bounced off the rim, straight into the hands of one of the opponents.

Dean was no expert, but this seemed bad.

****

Cas was pissed.

The quarter had ended at 32-15, and Cas had barely scored any points. Coach had properly chewed him out in the locker room during halftime, threatening not to let him start the second half, something that no one had thought would ever happen. He trailed behind the rest of the team as they marched back up to the gym for second-half warmups, and was preparing to throw himself into the drills when someone caught his arm. Cas was turning to snap at them when he saw green eyes and brown hair. “Dean?”

“Cas. Look, I’m sorry that I’m late, I just got stuck in traffic and then the parking lot was full, so I’m late, and I’m really sorry, but I’m here now.”

Cas blinked. “Dean?”

“Yeah, I know. Look, by the way, that tall guy on the other team...number forty-something. He seems kind of scary, so if you could just stay out of his way that’d be great.”

“Dean?” Cas was still just staring at Dean, a little shell-shocked.

“Yes, Cas. We’ve established that I’m Dean. Are you sure you’re okay, ‘cause you seemed a little out of it out there. Not that I’m an expert or anything. Obviously, I’ve never even played before. But Cas-” Cas leaned forward, catching Dean’s lips in a kiss. Soft and tender, nothing crazy. There were in public, after all. “Cas?”

“Thanks for coming, Dean.”

Dean smiled. “Always. Now go get ‘em. And I meant what I said about forty-something! No broken anything, ok?” Cas nodded, still smiling dumbly. “Good, now go! Warm up!” Dean shoved Cas towards the floor, smiling fondly at the big black twentyfive emblazoned on Cas’ back.

_He came!_

****

Dean stayed for the rest of the games to see Cas make a miraculous comeback and lead his team to victory. As he lifted the shiny gold trophy above his head, Cas looked over at Dean and winked. Dean made sure Cas see him roll his eyes.

Now they were both in the front seat of the Impala, Cas’ things in the back, AC/DC on the radio. It felt strangely normal. Dean was trying really hard to ignore that feeling. He looked over at Cas, flashing a teasing grin. “Ready to go home?”

Cas looked back at Dean and smiled happily before leaning back on the leather seat and closing his eyes. “God yes.”


	11. Week Two, Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forget everything I ever said about this being in December. I hate Christmas, so this is in January. It was all a lie.

Cas had, for some reason, expected Dean's favorite diner to be like something out of a movie: clean, airy, warm, bright, with a friendly staff who knew everyone’s name. He hadn’t been expecting, well...Fran’s. It was grungy, dim, falling apart, and freezing. Of his previous expectations, the only one it fit was that the staff knew everyone’s name. Or at least, they all knew Dean.

“Dean!” A brown-haired girl just a few inches shorter than Cas was looking at his companion in exasperation, hands on her hips. “What are you doing here? You’re not working this weekend.” Cas looked to Dean in confusion; _he works in a diner?_

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just thought we’d stop by for some burgers is all, Cas here has never had the good stuff.” He patted Cas’ back, shoving him forward a little bit. “Cas, this is Kate. Kate, Cas.”

She looked slyly at Dean. “ _This_ is Cas? Hm, I see the appeal.” She shook Cas’ hand warmly. “Dean here wouldn’t shut up about you last weekend. All Cas-this, and Cas-that. Shut up the second one of us asked about it, of course.”

“Ok, you know, I think that’s been enough meeting the family for one day. Kate, can you ask Fran for two quarter-pounders with the works? Please?” Kate opened her mouth to protest, then glanced at Cas and rolled her eyes, walking the ten paces back to the kitchen in a huff. Dean called after her, “Thank you!”

He pushed Cas into the table by the window, placing them across from each other so they could both enjoy the view. Cas sat silently in his seat while Dean bustled around the small diner, grabbing drinks out of the fridge and stopping to chat with customers. He looked so totally in his element, that Cas couldn’t help but stare at him, though he was a little taken aback when Dean looked up from where he was talking to an elderly woman and smiled at Cas, adding a little wink.

“Hey, sorry about that, they love me here.” Dean flashed Cas that self-satisfied little smile again as he slid easily into his chair. He looked up from putting cream into his coffee to see Cas staring at him intently. “What?”

“You work in a diner.” The words came out abruptly, almost harshly, but Dean responded before Cas could apologize.

He shrugged. “Yeah, every weekend, and Tuesday and Thursday mornings. I bake the pies, bus tables, wash dishes, mop the floor. Whatever needs to be done, really. Been doing this...two, three years now, I think.” Cas nodded thoughtfully.

“Do you enjoy it?”

Dean shrugged again. “‘S not bad, just another way to make money, plus I get to make pies. Fran doesn’t really keep a sharp eye on the pastries, so I can mix and match, do whatever I want. Use the waitresses as my guinea pigs; if they don’t like it I give it to Kenny, never make it again.”

“Kenny?”

“Yeah, he’ll eat anything. Man’s got no sense of taste, as far as we can guess.” Cas chuckled, sipping his water quietly. “What about you, man? Ever had a job?”

Cas shook his head, almost ashamed to admit it. “I come from a...wealthy family. It’s never been an issue. Always wanted one though, just for the experience.”

“Take my advice, Cas: put it off as long as possible. It sucks. I only got this job because both my parents got fired, were looking for work. Someone had to put food on the table.” He shrugged as though this announcement weren’t a big deal. “Then it just became something to do. They don’t even really need me, there are two other guys who could take my weekend shifts, but I just don’t like to let it go.” The unspoken words rang through loud and clear: _I never know when it might come up again._ “So, your question.”

Dean had leaned back in his chair, throwing his arm over its back as he raised an eyebrow at Cas. “Um...ok...why do you want to be an engineer? I mean, you clearly love to bake, and you’re _really_ good at it, so why not just do that?”

“Easy. Doesn’t pay the bills. Might not be able to get a job. And cooking school is really fucking expensive. So. Cas: you’re not gay.”

“That’s not a question.”

“I think the question’s implicit.”

Cas sighed. “I’m not...gay, per se. I’m just...I don’t know. I’m something.”

“You’re just gay for me?” Cas rolled his eyes. “Right, sorry, not my question. What’s yours?”

He didn’t even have to think about it: “Why now? Why are you asking about this now?”

“Because…” Dean looked away, as though hoping the jewelry store across the road could help him avoid the question. “Because it never occurred to me before that you weren’t. I hadn’t asked, and I’d never seen you with, well, anyone in school, so as far as I was concerned, you were gay. But then I talked to...well, then I was told you weren’t. So...that begs the question of this.” He motioned back and forth between the two of them.

Cas opened his mouth to respond when Kate suddenly materialized before them, holding two plates topped with steaming food. “Two quarter-pounders, the works, and an order of fries.” Dean smiled up at her before she walked away.

Dean grinned at Cas. “Eat, then answer my question. These are the best damn burgers in the state and I won’t have you ruining them with talk.” Before Cas could even fathom up a response, Dean bit into his burger, eyes fluttering closed and moaning a little as he swallowed. Cas just stared. It was damn hot. “Cas. Eat. This ain’t no peep show.” Murmuring a ‘sorry’, Cas bit into his own burger, his entire body shutting down as he did so.

It was amazing. Really, he’d never had a burger this good in his entire life. He just wanted to keep eating and eating and never ever stop.

“Sweet jesus, Dean, these are amazing.”

“I. Know.”

The table fell into silence as they ate their burgers and fries. The whole meal only took about twenty minutes, but it felt like ages. As they stood to pay, Kate approached, a very motherly look on her face. “Food was free, since it was your first date. Now git out before I change my mind.” Dean smiled at her, an annoyingly adorable smile that Cas had never seen before. “Of all the sweet jesus fucks, Dean, get out of this restaurant before I put you to work! Take this boy somewhere nice.” Dean nodded, bringing Kate into a large hug.

“You know, you act awfully old for twentythree.”

“Out!” The two boys ran out the door and collapsed into the Impala, laughing. Kate stood in the window of the diner, arms crossed, smiling as she watched the boys peel away from the curb.

****

Dean was nervous. What did Cas think of his house? He’d said that he came from money, so did the Winchester’s little place seem too homely? Cas _seemed_ fine, humming as he carefully placed the apple slices into the crust.

Yes, they were making apple pie, and yes, that was a little cliché, but Cas had only ever had a bad apple pie before, so Dean thought it a good way to introduce Cas to the art of pie-making. Dean smiled as he remembered the way Cas had laughed when he’d told him that. “The art of pie-making?” Cas had asked incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” The little laughing smile had only grown when Dean insisted that it was an art, and that if Cas didn’t believe him then he could watch while Dean did all the work. That had shut him up a little bit, though he continued to look over at Dean every now and then, smile, and look away.

It bothered Dean that he had to break up with Cas in a little less than four weeks. He was enjoying this; the whole ‘relationship’ thing. Obviously, he knew that it didn’t matter what he thought because Cas wasn’t gay. This was just a phase for him, an experiment. Dean had been in love with Cas since the beginning, but there wasn’t even the slightest chance that Cas felt the same way. There _couldn’t_ be, because Cas was straight.

“Dean?” Dean was jolted out of his thoughts by Cas’ voice. “I’ve finished the apples. What now?”

“Now we put on the crust. Here, I’ll do it. You hold this saucepan, and when I’ve done, pour it over the crust, ok?” Cas nodded, looking down at the brown liquid in distaste. “You can try it, if you like. It’s just sugar and water.” Carefully, as though the water were going to bite him, Cas lowered a finger before bringing it up and sucking it. Immediately his eyes scrunched tight, his mouth pinching together. Dean laughed. “You ok, man?”

Cas’ words were forced. “Just...sweet.”

“Yeah man. Sugar water, remember?” Cas shot him a bitchface worthy of Sam. “Here, ready? Pour.” Smirking slightly at Dean, Cas drizzled the sugary liquid over the entire surface of the pie, making it a shiny brown color. “Good. Now, can you get the oven for me?” Slipping the pie onto the top rack, Dean set the timer for an hour and ten minutes, and sat down at the table. He patted the chair beside him. “You never answered my question.”

Cas sighed, clearly knowing exactly which question Dean was referring to. “It’s...complicated. I’ve always been straight, but I’ve had plenty of guys...ask, too. And then you appeared, and you were gay, and you, you never asked. And I...just...you seemed...I mean...and it’s just…” Dean stopped him, grabbing his hand lightly.

Cas' unspoken words were obvious: _Just a phase. An experiment. A challenge. Nothing more. No feelings. Don’t even try. Didn’t want to tell you, not going to tell you. Please. Fun to mess with the gay kid._

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before.

“It’s ok, Cas. I got it, man. Don’t worry.” Looking into Cas’ big blue eyes, so filled with hope and despair, Dean felt his heart fracture a little bit. He swallowed. “Just four more weeks, and then things can go back to normal.” Cas opened his mouth, whether to affirm Dean’s statement, or to refute it, but Dean wasn’t having it. “Just...go get your history homework. I’ll help you.”

He practically shoved Cas away from the table, waiting silently for Cas him to return with his full backpack. The two of them sat at the table, Dean doing his Physics calculations while Cas worked through the history paper, only speaking when Cas asked for clarification.

The pie was delicious.

****

Cas stared at the retreating Impala, his bag laying carelessly on the ground. Something had happened Saturday, something that made Dean really upset. The upside was that Cas knew exactly what it had been: Dean had thought that Cas wanted to break up with him. Dean thought this was just a phase for Cas, that Cas was just experimenting, that Cas had no feelings for him. And since he knew what had made Dean so upset, he could ask Alfie about it. Alfie would know what to do.

Bending over to pick up his bag, Cas sighed. Why couldn’t he have just told Dean that he’d been creepily stalking and loving him since September? Why couldn’t life just be a movie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit later than anticipated, but I had a crazy day. So. Here it is. Comments and kudos, love and hate, anything and everything in between please!


	12. Week Three, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Week three for the win!

Jo was staring at him incredulously. “Seriously. I mean, you’re being serious right now? This isn’t a joke?”

Cas tilted his head, squinting his eyes over his plate at the young blonde. “Yes?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I mean, yes. Yes, of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”

She rolled her eyes. “Look, just eat, and we’ll talk about this after.”

“Why? Why can’t we just talk now? It’s not like Dean’s going to suddenly appear, is he? He’s off tutoring Melissa. So, why can’t we just talk about it now?”

“Alfie, back me up here.” Jo turned to the short sophomore Cas had dragged with him to the nerd table. “Tell him why we can’t talk here.”

Alfie shrugged, wincing a little as he did so. “Actually, Jo, I’m backing up Castiel on this one. Everyone who knows Dean is already sitting here, so this does seem like the best place to talk about it.” He shrugged again, looking at Ash to back him up.

“Yeah, but I can give you one really good reason not to talk about it here, and she’s about to sit down.” Almost immediately, Becky sat down, dragging Chuck into the seat next to her and began to chatter at high decibels about some tv show where someone died but apparently they really hadn’t. Jo rolled her eyes and leaned towards Cas, lowering her voice. “Girl can’t keep her mouth shut about anything. It’s physically impossible.”

“What about me?” Becky was looking at Jo and Cas inquisitively, no accusation in her eyes, just honest curiosity. At their confused, almost frightened faces, she sighed. “Oh, is this about your and Dean’s relationship struggles?” Cas opened his mouth to respond when she cut him off. “Oh, Cas, really. I know everything that goes on at this school. People should fear me.” She shot him a happy grin, in complete contrast to the words. He glanced at Jo, who nodded gravely. “So, just tell me. What’s up?”

Cas cleared his throat, suddenly uncertain about what to say. “I was asking everyone for advice on how to woo Dean.”

Jo smiled broadly at Becky, clearly annoyed. “We hadn’t gotten to the actual advice part yet.”

“Yeah, probably because you don’t actually need to woo him.” Kevin’s words were murmured, but not enough to keep the entire table from hearing them, and then to commence staring at Kevin liked they wanted to murder him. He looked insulted. “Oh, really, that’s still a secret? They’re together.”

“Kevin.” Jo’s voice was dangerously sweet. “There are some things--and it really doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together--that you just don’t tell.” The table fell silent, Cas getting the feeling that this was one thing that he shouldn’t ask about.

Suddenly, Garth spoke up. “Cas, if you want my advice, you should just tell him the truth. Tell me, how long have you been in love with Dean?”

Cas felt his cheeks flush as everyone turned to look at him expectantly. “Um, since...the beginning of the year? History class.”

“Got a funny way of showing it, don’t you?” Ash’s voice was almost angry, but Jo shushed him.

“Well, Cas, you want him to reciprocate, you should really just tell him. That would be for the best, really.” Garth looked around at the rest of the table, who all nodded agreement. “He’s a sensitive guy, doesn’t do innuendo and subtlety real well. Just up and tell him. Get him flowers. Win a basketball game and kiss him in the middle of the court. Go the whole nine yards.”

Alfie was nodding in agreement, his contemplative face fixed on his features. “The game on Thursday. We’re playing Carver. Beat them, kiss Dean on the floor, tell him. That would work.”

“You really think that’d work?” They all nodded enthusiastically, and he gave them a nervous smile. “Good, so I guess we have a plan. Good.” He grinned, suddenly more confident.

“Oh, and Cas?” He turned to look at Becky. “Tell him to forget about February 18th. That you never meant it anyway.”

****

“Dean, brother, you’ve really just got to own up to it and tell him.” Dean glared at Benny as he slammed the ball into the goal. “I mean it. You can’t avoid this forever.”

“Oh yes I can.”

Benny lowered his lacrosse stick, stopping before he threw the ball. “You’ve been in love with him since you stepped foot on this campus, and now you’re dating. I don’t see the downside here.”

“You know, I could say the same about you. Pining after Jo the way you are.” Benny launched the ball at Dean’s head, causing Dean to yelp and dodge away as he grabbed at it. “Just saying. This road goes both ways.”

“The difference between us is that Jo knows I’m pining for her. All she has to do is pick the place and the time. Castiel doesn’t know you’re in love with him.” Dean tossed three balls into the goal, one right after another, all in different locations. “Besides, how do you know he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Dean grunted. “He’s straight. Told me so on Saturday.” He picked up another ball, evicting it from his stick as quickly and as hard as possible. “This is just a phase for him, and experiment. Probably just doesn’t want to spend his college years figuring himself out when he can do it now with less hassle.” Another ball, and another, and another flew into the goal. Dean was on a roll, and Benny was worried. “I wouldn’t mind, really, I wouldn’t. It’s just...why me? Why not experiment with Alfie or something? They’re already friends, and we weren’t anything. I just did his goddamn history homework, because he’s not good at it.”

Dean’s words were starting to sound choked, though the balls kept flying just as quickly as before. “And it would be fine, because I could deal with it if he would just act like this is only an experiment and everything, but he _doesn’t._ No, he holds my hand, and laughs at my jokes, makes me tea every morning, kisses me hello and goodbye. Hell, he went to Fran’s with me and didn’t judge it. I loved him before, and I didn’t even know him, but now I do, and I don’t think I can go back to the way it was before. I don’t _want_ to. I want this.” He stopped talking and stared at the ground beside him, seeming flummoxed at the sudden lack of a pile of balls.

He looked at Benny, a bit pathetic. “What do I do?”

Benny sighed, walking to Dean and slinging an arm over his shoulders. “First, we’re gonna clean all this up. Then we’re gonna go inside because it’s fucking freezing out here. After that we’re going to eat lunch. Then, brother, you’re going to tell him. Ok?” He arched his eyebrow at Dean, daring him to disagree.

“Ok.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering, February 18th is the day they're supposed to break up.
> 
> Please leave love/hate/kudos/nothing, I really will take it all.
> 
> And big kudos to all of you who've read this and left comments because I really couldn't do it without you.


	13. Week Three, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is a bamf, but, um...sorry about the feels?

Dean was pissed at the  snow. Not that the snow had done anything, it was just falling gently to the ground the way snow does, but it was supposed to snow rather a lot, and he still didn’t know if he had a snow day yet.

But being the good nerd that he was--and despite the fact the school bus wasn’t running--Dean had taken Bobby’s craptastic truck and was resolutely driving to school. The roads weren’t too bad yet, and they were pretty much empty what with everyone staying home. Because of the snow.

He pulled into the nearly empty (yet immaculately plowed) student lot at 7:34 and left the heater running as he pulled on his coat and hat. Bracing himself, Dean jumped out of the cab and ran a mad dash for the front door, shivering at the sudden warmth that engulfed him as he stepped inside.

The hallway was deserted, nothing extraordinary given classes didn’t start till eight. Sighing dejectedly, Dean wandered down the hallway to the cafeteria, yanking open the door and shutting it again quickly at the loud rush of classical music that filled the air.

Well. That was different. There’d never been music of any kind playing in the morning before. And the dining hall was...empty. Completely devoid of life. Very strange.

Pulling the door open again, Dean pushed into the curtain of sound, through the dining hall, and into the kitchen. He recognized the music now: it was that song...duh duh duh duh duh duh-duh duh-duh...that one. Not that he knew the name, but it was a pretty famous song, so he knew how it went. Wandering into the dish room, Dean was greeted with a startling sight: Cas was waltzing around the dish room, racking up plates, shoving them into the Hobart, pulling them out, and putting everything away in it's place, all in one fluid movement.

It was entrancing, mesmerizing, and strangely beautiful. Dean couldn't bring himself to look away, so he just stood there in the doorway watching Cas.

"Dean?" Cas' voice was surprised, startled, and he rushed to shut down Hobart. He motioned to Dean to do the same with the music. "What are you doing here? Didn't you get the email about school?"

"Um...no. Obviously. There was an email?"

Cas laughed, an annoyingly beautiful sound that made Dean's heart pound. "Yeah. No school. Breakfast was pushed back an hour. I'm stuck doing this because I missed my work job this weekend." He arched an eyebrow at Dean, who blushed and grinned. "But it's alright. This job is strangely relaxing this early in the morning."

"Well it would be, listening to waltzes and such shit. Seriously, what is this song even called?"

"Au der schönen blauen Donau. It’s Strauss.” Cas turned back to Dean from where he’d been busily stacking trays and held out his hand. “You dance?”

It was Dean’s turn to laugh. “No.” Cas gave him puppy eyes. “No, I mean...I _can_ , I just don’t.” _Puppy eyes intensified._ “Fine. Turn on your damn Strauss. But I lead.”

Cas smiled, solidifying in Dean’s mind that he’d totally made the right decision. He scowled on principle, but took Cas’ hand, pulling him around and latching a hand onto his hip.

“Dean? You ready?” Cas’ hand hovered over the play button on the radio, and Dean nodded, swallowing nervously as the music began playing loudly again. “Ok...Dean...if you’re going to lead, you have to actually move.”

Dean flushed lightly, rolling his eyes at Cas. “Ok. Yep. Good, ready?” Cas nodded, smiling, amused. Putting a light pressure on Cas’ back, Dean stepped away from his friend, leading him backward and into a small turn. The tiny space they had to work with did them no favors, but they soon found their rhythm, always spinning in tight circles while moving forward around the small table in the middle of the dish room. They flowed perfectly together, Dean never having to push or pull too hard to get Cas to go where he wanted, and Cas seemed to completely trust him, not once looking over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn’t run into anything.

As the song came to the swell at the end, Dean spun Cas out in a twirl, then pulled him gently back in and dipping him down to the ground.

Cas grinned at Dean from his spot near the floor. “Well, Winchester. Didn’t know you had it in you.” Dean’s face went blank at Cas’ easy use of his last name, yanking the boy back up to a standing position. Cas smiled at Dean, leaning up to kiss him softly. Dean made a point to keep from giving into the warm feeling in his chest, and focusing on the ‘just a phase’ idea. He tried to pull away, and saw the confusion on Cas’ face when they heard voices coming from the lunch room.

“Castiel! Man, come on! Breakfast!”

Dean pulled away from Cas, trying hard to keep the apologetic look off his face. “I should go.”

“No, Dean, come on. I have to talk to you. Stay for the day. It’ll be fun.”

“No.” Dean shook his head. “I have to get home before the roads get bad.” He continued shaking his head as he backed away.

Cas grabbed his hand. “Dean, I _need_ to talk to you. Please. Stay.”

Dean hesitated, then shook his head. “No, I have to go, ok? I need to say something to you, but we can talk tomorrow, ok?” He turned, wrenching his hand out of Cas’ grip, and practically ran from the dish room.

Cas followed him slowly, turning the corner just in time to see Uriel reach out and shove Dean, knocking him into a table. The rest of the Angels laughed. Dean’s fall turned his head so he could see Cas standing in the doorway, just looking sad. He swallowed, angry, and turned to dash out of the lunch room, back to the truck.

 

Cas had seen the way Dean had looked at him, and he knew that he could only blame himself. He should have said something as soon as Uriel shoved Dean--didn’t know why he hadn’t, actually--but instead he waited until Dean was gone, and then Cas got angry.

“Hey!” All the heads turned toward him, sobering at his clearly pissed off face. “I told you to leave. him. alone.”

Uriel had always been the bravest (or stupidest, depending on how you looked at it), the only one willing to stand up to Cas. “What’s it matter, it’s just an experiment, isn’t it? Just a phase?” He looked around at the Angels, garnering their support for his words. “I mean really, Castiel, you’re not gay, you’re not ‘Bi’, you’re straight. You always have been and you always will be. Just because you’re doing a gay experiment doesn’t mean that-” Uriel never got to tell Cas what it meant, because Cas punched him in the nose.

He reeled back, clutching his nose and gaping at Cas, who took him by his collar and shoved him onto the table. “You listen to me. All of you. This is not a _phase_ , I am not ‘experimenting’, I _like_ Dean, I might even love him, and I’m trying to convince him of that. So if y’all can’t do what I told you, leave him alone, and stop being overall dicks, you’re going to have to go. Understand?” No one answered. “I said: do. you. understand?” His voice had dropped to a poisonous level, and everyone awkwardly chorused yesses. “Good. Now, I have to go call my boyfriend. Hopefully I won’t see any of you for the rest of the day.”

 

Dean was curled up on his bed when Cas called, Sam sitting in a chair staring at him. “Dean, it’s Cas.”

“Hang up on him.”

“Are you-”

“Did I fucking _stutter_ , Sammy? Hang up on him.” Swallowing, Sam reached over to Dean’s phone and clicked the ‘decline’ button.

He looked at Dean worriedly. “Dean, what happened? What did he do?”

Dean looked up at his little brother, his face so terribly sad. “He just doesn’t care, Sammy. I was wrong. He just doesn’t care.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
> BUT!!!! OMG YOU GUYS ARE THE NICEST FUCKING PEOPLE I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH WITH YOUR READING AND YOUR COMMENTS AND YOUR KUDOS AND I JUST LOVE YOU ALL.
> 
> Thank you for your time.


	14. Week Three, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anything in bold is a text.

Dean had been avoiding Cas for two days, and he’d been doing it really well. The only times they saw each other now were history and the occasional awkward moment when Cas tried to corner him to talk in the hallways. Jo and Benny told him he was being ridiculous, that Cas really liked him, that he should give Cas another chance, that he should MOST DEFINITELY, under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES go to the basketball game that afternoon. The whole table had nagged him about it all through lunch (in English, Latin, Spanish, Klingon, Binary, and Vulcan, no less) until he'd finally agreed to go.

So, when game time rolled around, Dean was squashed sullenly in the stands between Jo and Benny, only half-listening to their running commentary about how he should give Cas another chance.

He didn't point out that he'd given Cas an entire four month's worth of second chances.

Dean was jolted out of his thoughts by the sudden loud cheering, banging, and vuvuzela wailing that announced the arrival of the Kripke Prep varsity basketball team. Cas came last, eyes searching the stands before landing on Dean and smiling. Dean scowled.

"Hey, man, can I sit here?" Dean's view of Cas was being blocked by long, jean-clad legs. He looked up into a (rather attractive) unknown face. "It's just...I'm a bit tall, and I don't wanna block your view." The unknown entity smiled down at Dean, who nodded.

"Nah, go ahead. It's all good."

The teen (Dean had decided that the boy couldn't be much older than him) smiled happily, sitting down and twisting around to look at Dean. His eyes searched Dean's chest for a moment before darting back up to meet Dean's. "Because McCoy McGann Eccleston."

"Huh?"

"Sorry. Just, your shirt...'Why was Baker afraid of McCoy?' Because McCoy McGann Eccleston." The boy blushed and held out his hand. "Victor Henrikson, certified Whovian."

Dean laughed, throwing his head back at the strange wonder of this person he'd never even seen before. "Dean Winchester, certified general geek. Pleasure."

****

Dean was talking to someone. A boy, well, nearly a man. An attractive man. And now Dean was laughing, throwing his head back and laughing. Now they were shaking hands. _What was going on over there?_

Cas rolled the ball between his hands as he stared at Dean and the newcomer, Alfie's calming presence the only thing keeping him from striding across the gym and claiming Dean as his. Very publicly, and in very much a way that might end badly for this interloper.

Really, who did this man think he was, makin Dean laugh and smile like that? How dare he? How dare he just waltz in here all mystery and smiles, take Dean's hand and (quite possibly) his heart? Just who does this man think he is?

"Novak! Attention, please!" Cas jolted to attention, joining the small huddle of his team members as his coach went over the gameplan.

But he couldn't help sneaking glances at Dean and this mysterious newcomer every few seconds. Just to make sure.

****

By halftime Dean had disappeared. So had tall dark and handsome. By the end of the third quarter, Cas had been benched for his bad playing. By the end of the game (which they won, even without Cas' guidance toward the end) Cas was so angry that he wasn't really thinking straight. So when Meg Masters asked him to come to her after-party, he agrees without a second thought.

After all, what'd it matter? Dean was off with his new friend having hot kinky sex. Why shouldn't Cas do the same? Sure, when he'd told Dean there wouldn't be any sleeping around, he hadn't expected Dean to be the first one to make a new...friend. Not that Cas could blame anyone for falling for Dean; Dean was smoking hot, absolutely beautiful, the funniest thing on two legs, geeky, adorable, smart, pretty much perfect, and WAY too good for Castiel. He'd been hoping that maybe Cas would be good enough for Dean, but apparently not.

Enough. The party would start at six. Hopefully by six thirty he'd be drunk and banging someone hot.

****

Six thirty found Dean hard at work in the robotics lab, putting some of the final touches on the robots turning radius. It needed to be tighter.

He'd instructed all his friends not to bother him unless it was a legitimate emergency, so when his phone buzzed he was on it like lightning. Upon seeing it was a text from Cas, however, he sighed and dropped the phone back down.

By six thirty-five it had buzzed at least seven more times, and Dean finally checked it just in case there was something wrong.

**Desn! I mkiss you!**

**Im wrt s prty......…u shud cum.**

**In evry secnS**

**Jose her. Thinls she gonr hiik up wid Ben.**

**how many shoyta is to manhy**

**I'm sorry.**

When he reached 'I'm sorry', Dean snapped his phone off and sat for a moment. There were more, but Dean had caught the drift: Cas was at a party, Cas was drunk, Cas was sorry. He got it.

Sighing, he turned his phone back on and called Benny. "Hey, brother."

"Benny. Hi. Is Cas there?"

"Yeah, Dean, he's here. He's...really drunk. You should come get him, take him back to your place and sober him up before he does something stupid." Dean hesitated a moment before voicing his assent. "Good. Hurry, brother." Dean grabbed his keys, practically sprinting out of the science building to get to his car.

****

It was nearly seven when Dean arrived, a whole extra half hour for Cas to drink and do something stupid. Hopefully Benny and Jo had kept him out of trouble.

Dean shoved his way past the high kids on the front porch and into the crowded house. _Where was Cas?_ A little voice in his head told him that Cas would be wherever the drinks were. _Kitchen_. In movies, the drinks were always in the kitchen.

He steamrollered over kids toward the kitchen, turning around the dividing wall just in time to see Cas shove Meg Master up against the it and tongue-fuck her like his life depended on it.

You know in Mean Girls, when Cady sees Regina and Aaron making out, and time slows down? Well, Dean could now totally confirm that that is, in fact, exactly what happens. He just stared at the couple as their embrace grew more and more heated, watched as Meg ran her hand through Cas' hair and gripped it tightly, watched Cas roll his hips up into hers, and heard her moan at the sensation.

He felt his heart break into a million pieces, with this undeniable proof that Alistair had been right: that Cas would never return Dean's feelings because this was just a phase, an experiment. Cas was straight. Cas had taken Dean for a joyride up on cloud nine, and this was the descent.

Then Meg moaned again, and fury rippled through Dean's chest. By any rightful law, those moans should be Dean's, not Meg's. Steeling himself, he stormed up to the couple, wrenched them apart, shoved Meg to the side, twirled Cas around so he was up against the wall, and sucker punched him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised an update on Thursday, and since I'm up I'm just posting it really really early on Thursday.
> 
> P.S. Sorry.
> 
> P.P.S. I still love you all and have lots of fluff planned for soon! I promise! Just bear with me through all the nitty-gritty shit.


	15. Week Three, Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun facts about death and a heart-to-heart. What more could you want from Thursday night/Friday morning ramblings?

_“Cas, you stupid-”_

_“Don’t you dare!”_

_“Nah mom, he’s fine, he didn’t-”_

_“-need you to stay with me-”_

_“C’mon, Cas, get in the-Jesus fuck that’s cold!”_

_“There you go, sleep.”_

****

The sunlight was _really_ bright. Cas was pretty much completely sure that it had never been that bright before. There was also a...smell, lot’s of smells, more accurately, but the most predominant one was coffee. It was probably Colombian blend, with little tendrils of hazelnut floating around. There was also the unmistakable scent of bacon and...syrup?

 _God_ , the combination of scents was making Cas’ stomach turn. He rolled over, finding for the edge of whatever he was laying on and puking.

“Dude. That’s disgusting.” Cas flinched at the loud voice that pierced his head. “Fun fact: having a Blood-Alcohol Content level of .4 % will stop your breathing and send you into a coma. After that you die a truly horrible death. Would you like to know how much you had in your bloodstream?” Dean was sitting crosslegged in a desk chair, smiling harshly at Cas.

Cas blinked blearily, trying to focus on the loud boy staring at him. He groaned.

“Oh good. Because, Castiel, you were up at nearly .3%, .269, to be precise."

“Could you maybe talk a little bit quieter?”

Dean stood, leaning over the bed to glare at Cas. “Not really!” He shouted in the other boy’s ear. Cas clenched his eyes shut, trying to hide under his pillow. "Oh no, Castiel, none of that." Dean yanked the pillow off his head. "Wakey wakey, we've got to get some food in you.”

He handed a now-sitting Cas a tray filled with bacon, sausage, eggs, waffles, grits, and a french press filled with coffee. There was also a glass of water, into which Dean dropped an Alka-seltzer. Sitting back on his desk chair he smirked at Cas. “On you go. Eat up.” As he spoke, he pulled a slice of pie out from behind his computer, digging into it enthusiastically while Cas stared miserably at his food. “Castiel, my man, that is a quality hangover breakfast right there: something fizzy, lot’s of greasy shit, and coffee. I made it all, so fucking eat.”

Scowling, Cas slowly ate everything on the tray. He’d never admit it, but he felt better. Not a lot, but enough. He looked up at Dean, who was once again studying away, headphones in, the sunlight streaming in through the window and hitting his face just right to make him appear to be glowing.

The real question was: why is the sun so fucking bright? The sun. _The sun._ “Dean. What time is it?”

“Nine fourteen.” He didn’t even glance at his watch.

“Really?”

“How should I know? I’m not a freakin’ psychic. You done eating?” Cas made a strangled noise in the back of his throat that was somehow supposed to be interpreted as a ‘yes’, which Dean must have somehow picked up on, for he stood and took the tray from Cas. He handed him back the french press. “Keep this. And the mug. Keep drinking. Go get in the shower.” As he left the room, Dean tossed a few more sentences back at Cas. “Turn left, it’s the first door on the left. Towels on the rack, everything’s in there. Don’t drown, my CPR’s not that good.”

Cas stumbled out of bed, comically weaving his way across the floor as he tried to get control of his blazing headache. Stepping into the bathroom, he switched the shower up as hot as it would go and got in immediately.

The water pressure was amazing. Dean must have already showered because the water got blazing hot incredibly quickly. It felt _so good._ He just stood there for a moment and let the water rush over him, trying to remember what had happened the night before. He remembered snippets: the basketball game; going to the party with Meg; someone had shoved a drink into his hand, then another, then another. After that was just feelings: disgust and pain.

There was a bottle of Old Spice shampoo sitting in the shower rack, alongside Shea Butter body wash. It smelled nice. It smelled like Dean.

When he re-entered Dean's bedroom ten minutes later, he found the room empty except for a small pile of clothes on the bed, and a glass of water with an aspirin sitting next to it. Cas dressed quickly, reveling at not only finding himself surrounded by Dean's scent, but also wearing Dean's clothes.

"Knock knock, you decent yet?" Cas turned to smile at Dean, partly in thanks but also partly because he just liked smiling at Dean. "Cas-"

"We need to talk about last night," Dean looked a little startled at the abrupt interruption (as was Cas' head, unfortunately), but Cas pressed on. "I don't...exactly...remember what happened last night."

Dean nodded. "Ok," he drew out the 'o' for a bit, as though thinking on the letter. "Where do you want me to start?"

"The beginning would be nice."

"Like, beginning beginning?" Cas nodded, wondering how far back 'beginning beginning' was. "Well, this time I guess it started when we were dancing, and you called me Winchester. I mean, you didn't say it with malice or anything, but-"

"That's what I used to always call you..." Cas trailed off with an epiphanal sigh. "God, I'm sorry."

Dean shrugged. "It would have been fine, but then...with Uriel...and you just stood there, just the way you used to. And I just couldn't. I ran away." Cas had lowered his head to look down at the floor, embarrassed by Dean's words. "And I was just so scared. I was scared that they were right and that this whole thing is...nothing, that I ran, and I hid from you." "And then Jo and Benny made me to to the basketball game with them, said it was really important, and that I should give you another chance. But everyone was acting so coupl-y, and all the cheerleaders kept flirting with you, and then Victor appeared." Cas had to keep himself from snorting at the name of tall dark and handsome. He'd seemed more like an Iago than a Victor. "Then you apparently went to the party, though I still don't know why, you drunk texted me, I showed up on Benny's recommendation to sober you up, and found you hooking up with Meg. So I brought you here, shoved you in a cold bath , force-fed you an Advil and lot's of water, and let you sleep it off. That’s it. That’s the story."

There was a tense silence while the two boys stared at each other before Cas spoke. "I went to the party because...because I thought...I was jealous of the idea that you were off with...Victor." He spoke the name with a clear disdain. "It's just, you both left at half-time, and neither of you came back, so I figured..." He shrugged, trailing off.

"Castiel, Victor got a call from his brother, Calvin, who was in a car crash and needed Victor to come get him. I just couldn't stay in the gym with you-with everyone being so damn couple-y. Not when I was this pissed off. But, skipping forward to the party: you were only there an hour, and your BAC was .269%." Dean swallowed, looking scared. "Castiel, do you know how alcohol poisoning kills you? Either you go into a coma and choke on your own vomit; or you go into a coma, the alcohol shuts down the parts of your brain that controls your vital organs. One by one all your organs--heart, liver, lungs--stuff like that, slowly but surely stop working. Your body is in extreme pain, but you can't wake up because that part of your brain doesn't work anymore. It's a slow, incredibly painful way to die." Dean stepped forward, trembling. "What were you thinking? 'Oh hey, I bet Dean's getting some ass right now, so I'll drink myself into a stupor and hook up with anyone stupid enough to want me'? What exactly was the thought process there, Cas? What is wrong with you?" The last word was accentuated with a stinging slap that made Cas' head fly sideways, and left his ears ringing loudly. Cas stepped back, sitting down hard on Dean's comfortable mattress. Dean stood over him, all anger gone, just sadness written across his pretty face. "You could have DIED. What then? What would I have done?"

Neither boy moved, holding their tableau as though it were a matter of life or death. Then, slowly, Cas raised his head and looked at Dean's big green eyes. "I remember kissing Meg. I didn't kiss her because I wanted to...well, I wanted to kiss someone, it just wasn't Meg. I was hoping, I believe, that if I was drunk enough I wouldn't notice the difference. But mostly, I just wanted to be wanted. By anyone." He lowered his head immediately, but Dean placed two fingers under his chin and pulled him back up.

"Cas, you gotta understand. You are _always_ wanted." They stared at each other green eyes boring into blue ones. "You always have been, and you always will be." Leaning down, Dean placed a light kiss on Cas' forehead before stepping away from him. "Come on, we've got a three day weekend ahead of us, four if you count today, and we're going to spend it all on the couch catching you up on pop culture.

****

They spent the rest of the day curled up on the couch watching all six Star Wars movies, with enthusiastically buttered popcorn and plenty of tea.

Cas hated Jar Jar Binks--as he should, Dean told him--, absolutely fell in love with Han Solo and young Anakin, and cried when anyone died.

He also memorized the lines on Dean's face: the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughed; the light stubble coating his chin; how he had exactly 213 freckles; all the different shapes his pretty lips made as he silently mouthed the words.

Every now and then Dean would look over and catch him at it, and smile and wink. Every time it made Cas' heart flutter.

****

Later that night, when they were getting ready for bed, Cas turned to Dean, looking quizzical. "What'd you tell your parents."

Dean grinned impishly. "I told them you got roofied, and that I had to punch out the guy trying to take advantage of my man."

"My hero." The words were dry, but his expression was clearly amused. "Hero, if you want...you could sleep on the bed with me." Dean considered his options: hardwood floor, desk chair and footrest, hi comfy bed. After a moment's consideration, he hopped into his bed bed next to Castiel.

He rolled over and glared at the other boy. "Don't think I've forgiven you yet."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Goodnight, Dean."

"Hm. Night Cas."

If they ended up snuggled against each other in the middle of the night, well, that wasn't their fault, was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for any angst in the past...if not...sucks to suck, doesn't it?
> 
> As always, so much love to everyone who leaves comments and kudos, y'all are the driving force behind this. Otherwise I would have no motivation at all.


	16. Week Three, Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just...read. There's an explanation at the end.

Cas was surrounded by beeping noises. He groaned, trying to block out the sound, but garnered a new one instead. "Cassy? Cassy, oh my god, you're awake!" Gabriel's voice was loud in Cas's raw ears, causing him to groan again and try to roll away from his little brother. "I, oh! I should get Michael and Luci, they'll want to see you! Stay here!"

"Nowhere else to go..." Cas blinked up at the sterile, white ceiling and sighed, trying to remember where he was, and what he was doing there. The last thing he remembered was the party: doing shots with Meg and the other cheerleaders. After that it was all a bit of a blur.

 _Dean_. He remembered that Dean had gone off with someone, that was why he'd gone to the party. But what after that? Had he seen Dean again? Had he... _talked_ to Dean? God, what if he'd told Dean that he loved him? That would be...well, Cas'd never be able to look Dean in the face ever again.

"Cassy!" Michael's deep voice, so like Cas' rumbles across his thoughts. "We were so worried! When we got the call, they said you had alcohol poisoning, that you were in a coma..." He trailed off, staring at Cas a moment before turning back to the door. "Lucifer! Come over here this instant to see your brother!"

Luci didn't budge from his spot by the doorway. Instead he just locked eyes with Cas, silently telling him everything he needed to know: Luci had been worried sick; he was afraid for Cas; he wanted to know what had happened; he was upset with Cas, but he forgave him. Cas nodded, "Thank you, brother."

Michael looked back and forth between the two of them. "It's creepy the way you two do that."

"What happened?" Cas looked up at his brothers questioningly, waiting for them to answer his question. "You said something about a coma? How long have I been out? Where's Dean? I need to talk to him; it's important."

Michael and Lucifer looked at each other awkwardly, both visibly swallowing their discomfort. Cas glanced at his youngest brother, who was watching his older brothers with interest. "Gabe, why don't you run down to the canteen, grab us some food. Be gone about twenty minutes." Gabe opened his mouth to protest, but Cas gave him a look. "Stop and see if they have a game room or something while you're at it. Entertain yourself." The littlest Novak rolled his eyes in annoyance, but scampered out of the room anyway. Cas turned back to his brothers. "He is a sophomore now, we should really start including him in our chats. But anyway, you were saying?"

Luci glowered at his little brother. "If we go in order, starting with 'what happened', we've only got a second-hand account, but uh: you went to a party, you were there for an hour, you got blackout drunk, and you started a fight. Good job, Castiel, real good going there."

"Luci..." Michael's warning face was legendary, and worked just as well now as it always did. "But he's right, Castiel. Your alcohol level was .269%. After your little fight--during which you got knocked unconscious--you fell into a coma. You've been out for two days."

Cas ran that through his mind, speaking slowly when he eventually did so. "So it's...Saturday?"

"The afternoon, yes."

"So where's Dean?"

Michael and Lucifer did that whole 'twins sharing awkward emotional stares' thing before looking back to Cas. Michael was speaking, probably because he was the more diplomatic of the pair. "Um, the...uh, _disagreement_ you had at the party...apparently it was with Dean. According to what Gabriel's been able to pick up from his friends at school, you said some...unsavory things to him."

"And punched him, kicked him, basically just beat up on him." Lucifer was an amazing master of control, so to see him shaking with anger was enough to make Cas wish he could disappear into his pillows.

"And yet, after all that, he it got you out, drove you to the hospital, checked you in, called us, and stayed with you until we could get here." Cas felt a pang in his chest thinking about everything Dean had done for him, even after he'd apparently assaulted the boy. It outlined once again just how much Dean was too good for him.

"He gave us a message," Luci continued, pointedly ignoring Michael's cues to shut up. "Before he left--it was the only thing he said actually. Told us to tell you to forget about the eighteenth, that it's over." Luci paused, looking at Cas with a mixture of sympathy and disgust. "He's done with you Cassy, and he ain't coming back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so remember the last chapter that some of you liked? Well, as one lovely commenter pointed out, it had a fuck-ton of plot holes in it. This was something that I knew. This was also because it was not really a chapter that happened. It was a dream. It was a dream that Cas had during his coma about Dean.  
> That's all it was. Sorry if I got your hopes up or anything, because it was really just a dream. We are now back in reality, and if there are still some leftover plot holes that anyone really cares about me filling in, let me know, and I'll do just that.  
> Thank you for reading!


	17. Week Three, Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sammy have a chat.

Dean wasn't talking. That was how Sam knew he was upset. When he'd gotten home Thursday night, all covered in bruises and bandages, and limping, their parents had tried to question him about it. He'd just waved them off, storming up to his room to sleep. He'd pretty much slept all day Friday, their mom calling into school saying that he wasn't feeling well. On Saturday he'd sat down and watched all the versions of Sherlock Holmes he could find online.

But today, Sunday, Mary had told him he needed to talk about it. So he'd grabbed the car keys, grabbed Sam, and the two had gone for a drive, promising their mother that they'd talk about it.

They'd been driving for two hours, and Dean hadn't said a word.

"Um Dean?"

"What."

Sam swallowed; his brother wasn't big on 'chick-flick moments', preferring to just internalize all his problems. It wasn't healthy, but it seemed to have worked up until now.

"Nothing."

Dean sighed, looking at Sam out of the corner of his eye. "You want to know what's wrong, don't you?" Sam nodded awkwardly, glad that he hadn't had to ask. "Ain't the prettiest story I've ever told you." Dean stared resolutely out the windshield as he spoke.

"I went to a party." Sam raised his eyebrows in obvious shock-- _his brother had gone to a party?_ "Not like, I _went_ to a party, I went to a party to get Cas, because Benny called and told me Cas was basically blackout drunk. Anyway, by the time I showed up, Cas had had more to drink, and when I tried to pull him out, he decided that he didn't want to go. We got in a fight, each threw a few punches, and I knocked him out. Took him to the hospital, they bandaged me up pretty good." Dean shrugged, looking at Sam suspiciously. "And exactly what part of this story are we not telling our parents?"

"All of it?" This was a time-honored tradition between the two brothers: they could tell each other anything, as long as the other promised not to tell. "Dean...that was a nice story, and I'm sure that it's true, but what really happened? You wouldn't be so upset if you'd just had a fight."

"Why are you so fucking observant?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Come on, I'm being serious here. Tell me what happened."

Dean's hands tensed on the wheel, banking a hard left onto some country road that Sam thought he recognized from one of their previous drives. "Sammy...the fight with Cas...it started because I punched him. He was making out with Meg, and I...didn't like it. So I punched him. And he, you know, he's an athlete, so he got me down pretty good--he's really good at aiming his kicks." Dean let out a dry chortle, immediately stifling it and dropping a hand to his ribs. Sam clenched his jaw in anger at Castiel's actions. "But I...I got a bottle of Vodka somehow, and I whacked him over the head with it. He was out cold, so I took him to the hospital, called his family. Then I came home."

Sam was silent for a moment, studying his brother's profile: slightly stooped shoulders, hand pressed right to his ribs, soul-crushingly sad expression, green eyes devoid of a smile. Dean wasn't just upset, he was depressed, destroyed. Something Castiel had said or done that night had completely crushed Dean's spirit. Sam didn't even see a spark of hope let on his brother's face. It was as though he'd been through hell, climbing across all the levels with the promise of something good waiting on the other side, only to be told it was all a lie, and that he was being sent back to the very beginning.

It was the most singularly depressing thing Sam had ever witnessed. "Did you two break up?" The question was cautious, unsure. Sam was treading on thin ice here, and didn't want to be shut out.

Dean just nodded, sullen. "I dumped his ass." It was probably meant to come out as defiant, or proud, hell, maybe even funny, but to Sam's ears it just sounded like someone who'd given up. Sam didn't want his bother to give up, it wasn't fair. He was about to say so when Dean spoke up again. "The thing is Sammy, that some people's lives are basically perfect. But we can't all be that way; we can't all be the starring role. There always has to be the supportive best friend, the druggie across the street, the dunce. All the roles have to be filled, and I guess I just showed up to tryouts a little too late."

Sam stared at the side of his brothers head, not knowing what to say. It wasn't often Dean gave advice on life, only when he truly believed what he was saying. That Dean believed this depressing bit of life advice he’d just given his little brother made Sam angry: angry at Dean for believing it, angry at Dean's school for making him feel like he should believe it, and angry at Castiel for doing whatever it was he'd done to Dean on Thursday. But he wasn't going to get any more out of Dean, not about this at any rate, so Sam just sat back in his chair and watched his brother watch the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. This happened. Mostly because I was feeling pretty down about life. But anyway, there was more to the fight, promise! More exciting things to come!
> 
> Side note: I know I post super fucking early in the morning, but that's just cause I'm horrible at falling asleep. What the hell are your excuses for being awake? Different time zone? Insomnia? Please, tell me, I'm curious.
> 
> And, as always, much love for reading and putting up with my angsting! You're all wonderful! *rainbow showers of love and pegasi*


	18. Week Three, Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday's suck.

Cas was having a particularly shitty Monday. Ever since he’d woken up he’d know that it was just going to be one of those days.

First thing that morning he’d been called into the principal's office and suspended from the basketball team for seven days. According to his coach, “I can’t have drinkers on my team, Novak, you know that--but I’m making an exception for you, given your circumstances.” Cas had been confused, responding almost immediately with: “My circumstances?”

Coach, who had little to no time for anyone’s shit, rolled his eyes at Cas. “Yes, Novak, your circumstances. You’re a good player, but if I see you in my gym any time in the next seven days, I will kick you off my team with no second thoughts.” And just like that, it was clear that Cas was being dismissed.

After that he’d gone to his mailbox to collect anything he may have received during the weekend. Unsurprisingly, his box was nearly empty, containing only two stapled sheets of lined paper. It was history homework, written out in Dean’s neatly arranged letters. At the top was a note: _Assigned Friday. Due Monday. Remember to re-write before class._

It was a carbon copy of the note at the top of every homework Dean had ever done for him.

Angrily, Cas crumpled the papers into a ball and slammed them into the nearest recycling bin and stormed off to find someone from his history class. Once he’d gotten the assignment, he spent the remainder of his free period answering the questions on his own.

Why had Dean decided to do his homework again? Was this his way of telling Cas it was over? Did Dean think the best way to let him know was to revert to their old ways? Had-oh god-had Cas told him to? Had he done this? Well, clearly he needed to talk to Dean about what had happened Thursday night, get him to fill in some blanks.

****

He approached the nerd table at lunch, but someone had apparently noticed his coming and alerted the others, for they all stood and glared at him, crossing their arms and lifting their chins to give the impression that they were looking down on him.

Dean didn’t even looked up.

Upset, Cas turned back and headed for his own table, steadfastly ignoring all the murmuring and pointing of his schoolmates. Lunch that day was miserable, and he left for his own room as quickly as possible, hoping to avoid Dean and his friends as long as he could.

****

During history they did peer grading, their teacher handing out their papers at random to the other students. From the way Dean grimaced when he received his, Cas gathered his paper had been given to the other boy. _Good_ , he thought viciously, _this way he’ll know that I don’t need him to do my homework._

Cas got the homework of a girl called Caroline McLaughlin, a pretty blonde, if memory served. She did alright on the homework, scored a ninety-three percent. He didn’t know what he’d expected when he got his work back from Dean, but it hadn’t been a sixty.

Well, no, he’d expected the sixty; he was horrible at history, and this hadn’t even been good for _him_. What he’d expected had been at least some recognition of the fact that it hadn’t been Dean’s work. Something, anything at all.

And he _definitely_ hadn’t expected Dean to approach him in the hallway after class, notebook flipped open to receive homework instructions from Cas. That just plain pissed Cas off.

“Dean, I thought I made it perfectly clear by rejecting your last homework that I don’t need your help.” Dean raised an eyebrow at the marked-up homework in Cas’ hand. Cas sniffed. “Well, I don’t _want_ your help.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Look Castiel, I don’t care one way or another, I just figured that you didn’t want to fail.” _Castiel, he said Castiel, not Cas_. That stung, far more than it should have. “You know what, never mind. If you want to fail, fail. Explain that to T. Joe.” He flipped his notebook shut and walk away, leaving Cas standing alone in the middle of the hallway, freshman girls flooding past him as though he were just a rock in the middle of their fast-paced stream.

****

Cas was at a loss during sports period. He’d always gone straight to wherever it was that his team practiced, but now he couldn’t do that. He was banned from the gym. He didn’t want to do his homework, it would just make him think of Dean. Looking around his room, his eyes lighted on his lacrosse stick. He hadn’t practiced in a while, it would probably do him good to get some work in before the season began. Maybe he could even start Varsity this year.

Grabbing some balls from Michael’s room, Cas wandered down to the empty turf field. Or well, mostly empty. There was a lone figure standing in the exact center of the field, lacrosse stick held easily by his side, facing a long line football dummies. As Cas watched, the boy suddenly broke his stance, leaned down to-probably-retrieve a ball, weaved through the dummies, rolling and dashing from side to side as though he were born to it, and slamming the ball into the goal with an abnormal ferocity. Then he turned and sprinted back to mid-field. Whoever he was, he was good. Far better than Cas.

Maybe they could practice together, Cas thought absently as he jogged down the steps to the field, maybe Cas could ask for advice about- _oh_. It was Dean. The player was Dean. _Figures_. Cas stepped back, thinking about whether or not to leave, and if he stayed, what to say to Dean. ‘Hi’ seemed to casual, ‘Why?’ too broad, ‘I’m sorry’ would be perfect if he knew what it was he was apologizing for. But when Dean looked over and saw him, the first thing he said was: “What happened to you?”

He’d been wondering about it since Dean had approached him after history, but hadn’t had a chance to ask: Dean’s right eye was swollen completely shut by a bruise, he had a badly split lip, cuts on both cheeks, and he walked like he was in serious pain. This workout must be killing him.

“Got in a fight.” The unspoken word was clear: _you_.

Cas took a step back, appalled by what he’d done to Dean. It was horrible, he could see that. How come Dean hadn’t been in the hospital with him? What if Dean hadn’t knocked him out? From the looks of it, Cas would have killed him. He was disgusted by himself, so it wasn’t any surprise that Dean probably was too.

“God, Dean...I’m sorry.” The words sounded hollow to his ears, as apparently they also did to Dean, since he just rolled his eyes and scooped up another ball. Cas struggled to regain Dean’s attention before the boy started to run again and hurt himself.

He said the first thing that came to mind: “What about robotics?”

Dean snorted--probably a good sign, right? “Doesn’t start till four, at the earliest. Never has. Good news about the basketball team. Lucky, right?”

Cas tilted his head, confused. He hadn’t told anyone except the Angels, so how would Dean know about it, unless… “Dean, did you say something to coach?” Dean stiffened slightly at the use of his first name, the same way he’d used to do when Cas called him ‘Winchester’.

“Yeah.”

“What? What did you tell them?”

“The truth.” Dean shrugged. “Well, a version of it. Told them you got roofied.”

“Why?” Cas’ heart sped up--Dean wouldn’t have lied like that if he didn’t still care, Cas was sure of that. “Dean, why?” When Dean still didn’t say anything, Cas got angry. “Dammit, Winchester, why didn’t you tell them the truth?”

Immediately, Dean’s whole demeanour changed: his shoulders slumped, he directed his gaze downwards, and his whole body shifted from relaxed to stiff. He looked so horribly sad that Cas’ anger and resolve broke, and he knew, he just knew that this had something to do with Thursday.

“Dean...what happened on Thursday?”

Dean looked down at the ground. “You know, I think it’s about 3:45. I should get going.” He turned to walk off the field, but he was moving slowly, and Cas was over the railing and by his side before he got more than ten steps.

“Dean-”

“If you want to know so bad, ask Lucifer’s _friend_. He was there. But don’t ask me, cause I don’t want to talk to you.” He practically spit the words in Cas’ face. “And while you’re at it, remember when I told you not to be nice to me? Well, that includes using my name. So stop it.” He wrenched his arm out of Cas’ grip and stormed away, as best as he could.

Cas let him go. He’d only be more angry if Cas followed. _Lucifer’s friend._  Which friend? Lucifer had a lot of them.

He waited until Dean disappeared into the locker room, then turned to stalk off the field, his veins filling with determination. Cas needed to talk to his favorite brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically more or less have the next week planned out (can you believe we're already at week four????)...but it's hazy, so bare with me here. Who knows, Dean and Cas might get into a monster fight, or they could make up on Thursday. I really don't know yet... :/
> 
> So, this is early. A whole hour and five minutes early. Yay for me being productive and shit! And hey, maybe I'll actually get to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight? Who knows?
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, it means a lot to me! Please, continue to comment, it's the best part of my day!
> 
> Also, please remember that as much angst as there is, I do still love you, so there will eventually some day be fluff again. I promise.


	19. Week Three, Part Seven-and-a-half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas learns about Thursday night...

**< <Which of your friends was at Meg’s party?**

**> >A lot. Why?**

**< <Dean said that a friend of yours could tell me what happened.**

**< <So: which friend?**

**> >...probably Al.**

**< <Where is he?**

**> >Lunch room. Working off demerits.**

**< <Thank you.**

****

“Alistair!” Cas’ voice reverberated through the kitchen. “Alistair, I need to talk to you!”

Dave, one of the cooks, stuck his head out from the dish room. “He’s in the back.” Cas nodded his thanks before disappearing.

Alistair was standing comfortably in the back kitchen, cracking eggs with one hand while using the other to operate the giant mixer by his feet. He glanced up at Cas. “Afternoon, Castiel. What’s cookin’?”

“What happened Thursday night?”

“Well, now, that’s a broad topic, innit? Lot’s of things happened Thursday night.” Cas growled as he took a menacing step towards the lanky boy. “Oh, you meant what happened between you and Dean. _Well_.” There was a lot of emphasis put on that last word, matched with a significant look. “Why are you asking me, why don’t you go ask loverboy?”

Cas growled, taking another small step towards Alistair. “I did. He won’t tell me. He’ll barely even speak to me.” Alistair shrugged.

“Doesn’t surprise me, honestly.” He snapped the mixer to a halt, wiping his sticky hands on a small damp towel. “Sit.” Cas sat. Alistair sighed, as though physically pained by what he was about to say. “Well, Castiel, I’m sure you know the basics already: you got drunk, you kissed Meg, Dean punched you a solid in the face. Honestly,” he interjected, as though it were a thought just now occurring to him. “I was surprised you didn’t just go down then, what with all the alcohol you had in you, but you didn’t. Just got mad.”

Alistair puffed out his cheeks in thought, like he was contemplating life as he knew it. “Anyway, you retaliated pretty well, using your strength and shit against him: you had him on his knees within a few seconds, knocking him upside the head. You bloodied the kid up pretty good. After you pushed him to the ground you started in on his ribs, kicking them like there was no tomorrow. Honestly, Castiel, it’s a bit amazing that he can walk.”

Cas shrunk down in his chair, feeling the bile begin to rise. He’d done that to Dean? How could he do that to Dean? He loved Dean, he’d always protected him. And now he’d been the attacker. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Alistair. Apparently there was more to this horror story.

“And really, the beating he could probably have dealt with, but you kept yelling at him. Telling him he was a freak, and a fag; talking about how you were amazed that Dean had ever thought you’d want him, because you were clearly straight. I believe you used the words ‘phase’, ‘experiment’, and ‘nothing’ several times.”

Cas launched to his feet, grabbing the front of Alistair’s shirt and practically snarling at him. “I would _never_ -”

“Oh but you did, Castiel.” Was it Cas’ imagination or were Alistair’s eyes dancing? He was _enjoying_ this, the bastard. “Ask anyone who was there, you broke Dean Winchester’s heart and he just sat there and took it. Let you smash his head in, let you rip his heart to shreds, and he didn’t even look at you. After a while you stopped. Maybe you got bored, I don’t know, but Dean took the opportunity to bean you with a bottle of Vodka. After that it was back to the basics: you were unconscious, Dean carried you out, and, apparently took you to the hospital.” Alistair shrugged, clearly unhappy about how his story had ended, but Cas had stepped back, looking dazed.

“He carried me? I beat him, I...I _abused_ him, and he carried me to his car? And took me to the hospital?”

“I know.” Alistair patted Cas’ shoulder in a sickening display of camaraderie, shaking his head in apparent disapproval. “Kid got in too deep. He should have taken my advice when I gave it to him. Too late now.”

Cas stiffened. “Your advice?”

“Yeah, Castiel, my advice. I told him to run. To get as far away from you as possible, because you would break his heart into a million pieces. And look at that, you did.”

For a split second Cas considered punching the boy’s lights out, but then he remembered what he’d done to Dean and a second ( _third? fourth?_ ) wave of nausea rolled over him, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he just shrugged out of Alistair’s grip. “You listen to me, you fucking...assbutt. If you ever touch, speak to, or even look at Dean Winchester again, I will know. And I will destroy you.” He leaned into Alistair’s face, glaring into his eyes. “I am going to win back Dean. Watch me.”

He spun away from Alistair, making sure to flip over three cartons of eggs as he did so, the sound of their shells breaking on the ground making him very happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have been really quiet today, and you're making me a bit sad :'(
> 
> BUT, anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. I HOPE, not that I would KNOW, because apparently no one is talking to me anymore. It's like middle school all over again...
> 
> Sorry about not explaining the texts, but they start with Cas, then Luci, then Cas, then Luci...and so on and so forth.


	20. Week Four, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Week Four? Yes please.

Dean was thinking about the Party (it had long since become a capitalized event in his life, every other party simply a party). He’d been doing it a lot lately, probably to the point of obsession, but he just couldn’t get it out of his head.

The memories of what had happened plagued him, running through his mind like lightning every time he closed his eyes, every time he saw Cas--no, Castiel-every time he saw _Castiel_. How he’d walked into the kitchen to see Castiel making out with Meg-- _he doesn’t even like Meg!_ \--slamming his fist into Cas’ face, making sure not to get his nose or teeth.

 _“You are nothing, you little fag!...So greedy for it you’d even date a straight guy!”_ The feeling of Cas’ fists as they’d pummled his skin, his hot, alcohol-imbibed breath on Dean’s ear: _“So eager to please me, not saying a word. Were you this good earlier with tall dark and handsome?”_ There had been hurt in those words, Dean was prepared to swear by it.

Dean had been told by his father that the easiest way to divine the truth was to listen to a drunk friend, since they wouldn’t have it in them to lie. While Dean and Cas weren’t exactly friends, Dean figured the theory still applied. So, as Cas beat him, as the abuse rained down over his head in never-ending cascades, Dean had just sat back and taken it, glad to finally be hearing the truth. He’d been so sure that Cas was going to keep hitting him, keep kicking at him until he died, that he’d tried to apologize for hurting the boy. _“Cas…”_ It was all he’d been able to say before Cas suddenly stepped away, as though he’d been shocked. He’d just stared at Dean, watching as Dean gathered himself, looked around, and grasped a Vodka bottle by it’s neck.

Dean stopped his train of thought by rolling over to look at his alarm clock. The red number glared back at him angrily: 3:47 AM. He sighed, rubbing at his left eye angrily before rolling out of bed, landing on the floor with a grunt of pain. Padding over to his desk, he popped two Ibuprofen and stared out the window at the moon.

He sighed, waving his hand in an attempt to get the thought of Cas’ last conscious words out of his brain. Figures that Cas would break up with him by telling Dean he was in love with the world’s bitchiest cheerleader. He crawled back into bed, closing his eye in a desperate bid for sleep.

_“Dean...Meg...I love you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is REALLY short. I am aware of that, but I'm planning on posting something else later, maybe something from a totally new perspective? Who knows? I sure as hell don't.
> 
> Anyhoo, please keep leaving comments, I love seeing who thinks they'll get back together and who thinks Dean should just dump Cas' ass and move on. Very interesting, you're all so intelligent and smart and pretty and wonderful and perfect and lovely. And I love you all.


	21. Week Four, Part One and a half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Italics are Cas, plain print is Dean.

_You watch the dark-haired boy with the startling eyes as he comes into the house, a determined look in his eyes. You watch as someone shoves a beer into his hands. You want to scream at him not to take it, he knows how angry and cruel he gets when he’s drunk. It never ends well._

_At the moment, the future’s of the two boys are inexplicably and irrevocably intertwined, but it all depends on the dark-haired beauty. If he screws up tonight, it could all be over before it really begins._

_You look away, you look back. He’s already downed his first beer and has started a second._

 

The taller boy with the light brown hair is angry, that much is clear. It’s all you can do not to yell at him, to tell him everything that’s going on, but it wouldn’t matter because he can’t hear you. You are nothing more than the draft blowing lightly through his workplace.

You hear his phone go off, see him check it, see him ignore it, clearly annoyed at the boy on the other end. It only serves to make you angry. The phone goes off seven more times before the boy checks it. He stops after only four, and you lose it. You begin screaming at him to keep reading, that there’s more, that it’s important that he reads it. Your soundless words bounce around the room, echoing loudly in your ears and making the boy shiver.

You watch him as he calls his friend and runs out of the room, dropping his phone to the ground on the way out.

****

_You’ve barely been gone fifteen minutes, and you can tell that the boy’s had at least two more beers. You shake your head angrily. This was not the plan. The other boy is following the plan; so what’s wrong with this one? Well, the other one had changed the plan too, but not in an irreversible way. They can still fix this. If they just keep their heads they’ll be fine._

_The dark-haired boy picks up his phone, staring at it disconsolately, not understanding the other one hadn’t replied yet. Making a drunken decision, he dials the boy’s number. Though it’s anticipated, the sad look that graces his face hurts you inside._

_“Dean...it’s me, Cas.” He pauses, his drink-addled brain uncertain of the best way to go. You scream at him ‘I love you! Tell him!’. But he doesn’t hear._

**  
**He’s driving, the small back roads curving almost too much and too quickly for his clunky old car. _“I know you’re probably having sex right now, and I’m really jealous of that, but I need to talk to you anyway.”_ Looking down, he realizes that he doesn’t have his phone. He curses, but he’s already gone, and doesn’t want to give the other boy--the idiot--the chance to drink anything more. “ _You were right, Dean, I’m a dick. I always have been. I should have stood up to Uriel for you, I should have gone after you. I shouldn’t have made you do my homework, I should have just said hello.”_ Fucking red lights. You snap your fingers, changing the light almost instantly so the boy can keep driving. But you’re tired, you’ve been going back and forth between the two too quickly, trying to keep them on track. All you want to do is sleep. _“There’s so much I should have done, even more I shouldn’t have, but I just...fuck, we should do this face to face, but I...I think we should break up.”_ No. No no no no no. He did not just say that. The future is going to change if he doesn’t fix this, you can see it. It throws off the present, causing you to forget about clearing the road, and the driving boy gets stuck behind a rear-end collision. _“I don’t want to break up with you, but you deserve someone better, someone who can give you everything you deserve. And that person is clearly not me. If it’s tall dark and handsome then good for you. If not...then good luck.”_ Why was this boy so desirous to ruin all your hard work? What was wrong with him? How could he be so willing to throw away what could be so perfect? Of all the days to drop your phone, this stupid boy had to pick today. The two of you are nearly past the crash, and if you could just reach the party before the boy implements his stupid plan--the one forming clearly in front of your eyes--then it’ll still be ok. The traffic just needs to hurry up. _“Don’t come here, Dean, just let this go. In school tomorrow, just stay away from me. It’s the best way. I hope you’re happy with whoever you find that makes you happy, but I need to get over you, because you clearly don’t feel that way about me. If you come near me, I’m going to say something bad, something that makes you leave me. I’m sorry, but having you hate me is better than having you pretend to like me.”_ You’re almost crying now, because this isn’t the way it was supposed to go. They were supposed to be your forever couple, but now they’re changing the rules. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! It isn’t fair! Curling up on the passenger seat, you close your eyes, trying to sleep. _“Dean, I want you to know...fuck, this is hard...um, right. Yes. Dean, I just want you to know that I love you, and that that will never change. Whatever I say. Goodbye, Dean.”_ The sandy-haired boy slams his palm on the steering wheel, flooring the gas as he hurries toward the party. He seems so determined to get to the boy that just gave him up, it physically hurts you. The last thing you hear before you close your eyes in sleep are his murmured words: “I’m coming, Cas. I’m coming for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was not written in any way to excuse Cas' actions, or to clear his name, I swear. It's merely the beginning of an explanation for them.
> 
> Please, as always, I desire and appreciate any and all the comments you are willing to leave. Really, I am. I'm especially interested in the divide between readers who think they need to get back together and the ones are think Dean should just walk away. Any new thoughts as new information is received?


	22. Week Four, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Um...so this happened.

"Dean, I believe this is yours?” Dean’s craptastic phone was shoved under his nose, completely blocking his view of the Drosophila melanogaster on his petri dish. He looked up to see Jo waving it at him impatiently. “I was wondering why you never texted me back. Or called Benny. Or texted Sam. Or anyone.” He sighed, snatching it from her. “By the way, you have like, twelve voicemails. You should really listen to them or they’ll build up and everyone will want to kill you.”

“Gee thanks.”

“Just tryin’ a’ help!” The words were flung at him over Jo’s shoulder as she wandered back to her own microscope, easily ducking around the large form of Tyler, their Bio teacher.

Tyler raised an eyebrow as he looked at Dean. “Everything alright over here Dean?”

“Yeah Tyler, I’m good. Just, you know, categorizing fruit flies.” Tyler smiled at Dean, patting his shoulder lightly. Dean opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and closed it again. After a moment’s consideration. “Actually, sir, I’m just about done--just have to stick these in the morgue, would it be alright if I left early?”

The tall teacher looked around the classroom furtively, then turned back to Dean and shrugged. “Sure, just don’t make too much noise in the hallways or it’ll be my neck.”

Quickly, Dean finished up with his flies and escaped the lab. Flipping open his phone he saw that Jo had been nearly correct: he had eight new voicemails. He settled down in his paisley armchair to listen, growing bored after only a few moments; most were from his parents and his friends, just asking why the hell he wasn’t picking up and wondering if this would make him late for things. (Ash left a particularly memorable one nearly seven minutes long debating whether the Somali pirates who had apparently kidnapped Dean would either kill him or sell him into prostitution, and why.) But of them all, it was the last one that caught his attention, causing him to storm out of the science building towards the cafeteria with a righteous fury.

****

“What the _hell_ was that?”

“Dean?”

“Don’t _Dean_ me! What the _hell_ was that about?”

“Huh?”

Dean placed one hand on the table over Castiel’s shoulder, pressing his phone up to the boy’s ear with the other. “Listen.”

 _“Hey Dean, it’s me…”_ Dean’s hand never wavered the whole message, his angry expression focused on Castiel’s face, watching as his expression changed from confused to enlightened to embarrassed. The Angels watched the exchange with interest, all talking in the lunchroom having long since ceased.

When the message ended, Castiel looked up at Dean, nervous. “Oh.”

“ _Yeah_ , ‘oh’.” He stared down at Castiel, expectantly waiting for an explanation. “You got anything to say, _Angel_?” The word was spit in Castiel’s face, clearly an insult.

“Um...Dean, maybe we should go somewhere more private….”

“No, Cas, no more private conversations! If you want to say something to me, you can fucking explain in front of the entire fucking school!” He waved his hand at the lunch room, all now openly staring, a few teachers gaping at the yelling, but not interrupting. “Unless you’re afraid of them or something.” Castiel didn’t say a word, just staring up at the angry boy above him. “Oh, you _are_ , aren’t you? Afraid they’re not going to like you anymore just ‘cause you’re bi? Guess what, Castiel, they don’t give a flying fuck in space! I’ll bet at _least_ half of them are bi. For god’s sake, Castiel, can’t you just get over it? Hell, I’m gay, and I’d announce it to the world if I thought they cared at all. In fact,” Dean turned, striding to the table behind him, grabbing a chair, and bouncing up on top of it. “Hello cafeteria! You should video this shit or something! Put it on youtube! Put it on facebook! Put it on tumblr! I don’t care!” He waited while kids pulled out their phones.

Castiel had stood, and was pulling on his shirt. “Dean…” He stopped as Dean turned his angry green eyes down on him. “Ok.”

Dean raised his head again to look out on his crowd. “Hello world!” He gave a little wave. “I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but my name is Dean Robert Winchester, I’m seventeen years old, and I’m gay. Please, reblog, repost, thumbs up this video if you don’t give a fuck about that little factoid. This is a social experiment to prove to this boy,” Here he paused to point at Castiel, who looked like a deer in headlights. “That no one really cares if he’s bi or not. So please: reblog, repost, like, and thumbs up to support me! Thank you!” Saluting the cameras, Dean stepped down off the chair to a round of applause and hollering.

He looked at Castiel. “See, they don’t care.” Castiel swallowed nervously, looking around at all the students in the room, then back at his own table, where Balthazar, Anna, Alfie, and Gabriel were all grinning like maniacs and giving him thumbs up, while everyone else just looked at him disapprovingly. Dean followed his gaze. “Oh, but _they_ care, and that’s all that matters. I forgot.”

“That’s not true, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was quiet, almost dangerous, but mostly sad. “They’re not the only thing. You matter.”

Dean snorted. “Could’ve fooled me.” He reached to pat Castiel’s shoulder, put pulled back at the last second. “You’re bi, Cas, you just have to get over it. Do that and maybe we can talk.” Dean turned to walk away, looking back over his shoulder at the last second. “And don’t even _think_ that you’re _anywhere_ close to being even _slightly_ forgiven.”

The last Cas saw, Dean was getting pulled aside by the two oldest History teachers and (probably) taken to the principal’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure about this chapter...your thoughts?
> 
> So the whole two endings thing: most of you guys were pretty sold on the plan of just the one ending, but almost all of you said that you would read two if there were both, so I've decided that I'm just going to write one, and write the other if I think I can work it. Hope y'all are okay with that.
> 
> And, as always, eternal love shall shine down on you all for commenting and reading and just generally being. THANK YOU ALL YOU ROCK!


	23. Week Four, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...sigh...that's all I have to say.

Cas had shamelessly followed Dean around all day on Thursday, saying goodbye to him before every class, and greeting him at the end. Then they would walk without saying a word to next period. Cas was late to every class, and had to run to get to Dean before he moved on. During lunch he sat moodily at his lunch table, listening to Naomi, Rachel and Uriel gang up on him about being bi, stealing looks across the room to where Dean was sitting with the nerds, looking as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Which, Cas supposed, he didn’t. After all, he doesn’t have to prove to someone he verbally and physically abused that he loves them. From 3:15-3:45 he watched Dean work out on the lacrosse field, attempting to get his homework done, but mostly just watching Dean as he stretched and ran. It was oddly relaxing.

But today was Friday, and today Cas was going to _do_ something. Anything, really, just something.

He started the day by leaving Dean’s usual tea mug inside his locker, a treat for when he arrived. Cas didn’t dare give it to him himself, just in case Dean got pissed off. It was English Breakfast, with just a little honey. Just the way Dean liked it. When he saw Dean just before first period, Dean was lifting the mug to his lips, a satisfied look on his face as he swallowed the hot beverage. He caught Cas’ eye and glowered at him, making a point to drop the mug quickly to his side. Cas felt his face flush as he looked at the ground. By the time he looked back up, Dean had darted into his classroom, leaving Cas to turn and walk, alone, to the science building.

Somehow he managed to miss Dean exiting his classes for the rest of the morning, with the exception of history, when they left together. And from history he escorted Dean to the lunch room, where he followed him through the buffet line, and to his table.

“What are you doing?”

Cas looked around, pretending to be startled. “Oh, I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” Dean rolled his eyes, indicating that _yes, he was_. “Well, I was going to sit with you. I never have, and now seemed like a good time.”

“What could possibly have you convinced that now is a good time. If anything, I’d say that now is the _worst_ possible time.” Sighing, Cas pushed past Dean and sat down in one of the empty chairs, indicating his hand at the other.

“This chair is open, if you want it. You don’t even have to talk to me. You can look away from me if you want. I won’t say a word, I just want to observe.”

“No, Castiel, no. I don’t want you here.” The nerds were watching them with interest, carefully following their quiet exchange. “Go sit with your friends.”

“These _are_ my friends.”

“No, they’re _my_ friends.”

“Why can’t they be both?”

“Because Castiel, for gods sake, not everything at this school belongs to you!” Dean’s outburst drew the attention of a few of the closer tables, causing him to lower his voice.

Dean placed his hands on the table, leaning across Charlie (who leaned back to get out of his way) and into Cas’ space. “They are _my_ friends, Castiel Novak, not yours. Not just because you sat with them, what, twice? Your friends are dicks, mine rock.”

“Dean,” Charlie placed a light hand on his arm. “Just let him sit there. It’s alright, we don’t mind. He did pass the test, after all.” She looked around at the rest of the table, who all nodded awkwardly. “Dean, please?”

He looked down at her, held her gaze for a moment, and sighed deeply. “Fine. But only because _all_ of you vouched for him.” He turned back to Cas, glaring angrily. “And only this once.”

Becky grinned happily. “Good, now we’ve got that sorted out lunch can begin.” Immediately she launched into a story about Spock and Kirk’s (apparently) obvious gay love. The table debated the topic heavily, mostly coming down in the affirmative--though Benny and Chuck were both pretty sure that the two men were just really good friends. Then they moved on to something called Johnlock, which apparently involved Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. After that Cas didn’t even bother trying to keep up, perfectly content to just listen to the happy--though incredibly geeky--chatter, and to watch Dean.

Dean seemed completely in his element here, even more so than behind the wheel of his car, or in the kitchen. He was clearly the ringleader of the group, jumping from one topic to the next with east, pulling quotes from TV shows and books that Cas had never heard of. He laughed and joked with his friends, looking completely at ease and just absolutely _happy_.

Cas had never felt so lonely in his entire life. He wanted this: the group of friends to laugh and joke with, that he could be in charge of yet still be a part of, that would stick up for him no matter what. He wanted _this_ group of friends, especially if they came with Dean.

Before he knew it the meal was over, dishes were being stacked, and he was, once again, left with the tray. Dumping the tray onto the belt, Cas grabbed an apple, tossing it lightly from hand to hand lightly as he left the lunch room, only to have it slam loudly into the ground when someone grabbed his collar and pulled him violently to the side.

“The _hell_?” Dean was gripping Cas' shirt tightly, dragging him down the hallway to an empty classroom. "Dean, what are you-" Dean slammed the door shut behind him, pinning Cas against the wall.

"You can't sit with us."

Cas wriggled uncomfortably, trying to free himself from Dean's iron fist. "Excuse me?"

"I said: you can't sit with us."

"Why the hell not? I like them, they like me, we're friendly. Why can't I sit with them?"

"Because, Castiel, they're my fracking friends. Not yours, _mine_." Cas opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off. "If you say they can be both, I will kick your ass, do you understand me?" Cas nodded awkwardly, very pointedly not saying a word. "Now, I'm going to tell you why they can't be both of our friends, ok? Good."

Dean took a deep breath, as though preparing to yell. "They can't be both of our friends because, since the day I got here, you've taken every good thing I had and destroyed it."

Cas opened his mouth to protest, but Dean cut him off with only a look. "My intelligence? You made me your personal homework slave. My geekiness? You made it a point of ridicule for all your friends. Being a day student? Making sure all the class activities took place at night, when I couldn't be here, because I had to be home. Being gay?" Here he just laughed, making it clear that their fake relationship had pretty much ruined that for him. "And just try making friends when you're the gay scholarship student who's also the personal plaything of every bully in the school."

"Finding them, the 'nerds', as your _friends_ call them, was the only incentive I had to stay in this school. They weren't infected with your poison like the rest of the school was, they didn't care that the bullies came after me. They just thought I was awesome, and I don't know what I would so without them." He paused, pointedly not looking at Cas. "So when you wanted to sit with them, I go nervous, because I just assumed that you'd take them from me, and that I'd be completely alone, and I just can't do that. So, Castiel, if you could just stay the hell away from them, I'd be quite appreciative. Thanks." He released Cas' shirt, pushing off and heading for the door.

Cas grabbed his arm, spinning him around and fixing him with a glare. "Well did you ever consider what it's like to be on the other side? Being popular is _hard_ , Dean. Everyone expects you to be perfect all the time, to be on your best behavior while also being a little bit of a rebel; breaking the rules and calling out kids who do dumb shit. You're supposed to be poised all the time, but not so much so that you lose all emotions. Everyone looks up to you, and resents you for your popularity. Everyone wants to be friends with you, but no one wants to be your friend." He finished his little rant with a sigh. "It's not an easy job, Dean. I just wanted a couple friendships like you have; I'm endlessly jealous of that. You have such good friends: loyal , caring, funny, sweet, loving, not afraid to call you on your shit. Can you blame me for wanting something like that?" He looked up at Dean, blue eyes shining through dark lashes.

Dean swallows hard, his green eyes hardening even as Cas watched, but with just a little bit of sadness left--enough to give Cas hope. "Boo fuckity hoo." And with that, he turned and left Cas standing in an empty classroom, staring at a bookshelf filled with copies of John Milton's _Paradise Lost_.

The irony was not lost on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just...I'm tired and I have nothing to say. Maybe I'll post something later, who knows. Maybe. 
> 
> Love.


	24. Week Four, Part Three-and-a-half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group text between Charlie, Jo, Benny, Ash, Garth, Becky, Chuck, and Kevin. Plotting and planning like best friends do.

Key: Charlie, **Jo** , _Benny_ , Becky, _**Ash**_ , **Garth** , _Chuck_ , and **_Kevin_**.

* * *

so...lunch was awks

**there’s nothing awkward about Spirk**

**not the convo freak, destiel**

_Destiel???_

**it’s what becky calls them…**

:D

i like it

They’re my real life OTP

_** u guys need help. i hear 911s good 4 that ** _

damn kev! bringing out the big guns!

the sass is strong in this one

_Y’all are such nerds_

EXCUSE me…im a geek…dean’s a nerd

**cud we pls focus on the destiel?**

_ Are we really going to call them that? _

Yes.

_Ok._

_**bro you whipped** _

_I know I know._

**destiel. focus.**

**we need 2 fucking fix this.**

_ **y cant they fix themselves?** _

they’re clueless, we all know that

_**What’d I miss?** _

** _destiel needs to get fixed_ **

_**Fixed how? They seemed fine.** _

????

**…he didn’t get much sleep last night. ignore him.**

_**Wow you suck.** _

**yep ;)**

I ship it.

_ **i think its creepy** _

_ **don’t flirt with ur brother. its creepy.** _

weeeeeelllll…moving on. destiel?

**dicks in love…how do u fix that?**

**a little bit of this and a whole lot of that**

_You need help._

** ;) **

We could always lock them in a closet. Works in movies.

_ Yeah let’s do that. _

_**bro. again. Whipped.** _

_At least I’m not banging my sister._

**i am NOT banging my brother**

**_nope. never ever._ **

can we please get back to locking people in closets?

_ **i don’t think it’ll work…** _

you’re booksmart not streetsmart. i like it.

_How about the lab? Dean on his home turf, he’d feel safer. Less threatened._

_Probably easier for him to talk then._

**when did you get all strategic and shit?**

_I have many unexploited talents._

_**stop flirting with my sister.** _

**it’s ok ;)**

…so we’re going to lock them in the lab?

_ **yes. can I go back 2 homework now?** _

**go, nerdlet, spread your intellectual wings.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, same as last time.


	25. Week Four, Pre-Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin: the first half of Week Four, Part Four.

“Dean?”

“What?”

“Are you sure we can’t go out the windows?”

“I told you, they only open six inches. I don’t think we could fit.”

They fell silent for a moment, before:

“Dean?”

“What?”

“I’m hungry.”

“Oh well then, by all means, let me get my emergency food stash.”

“There’s really no need to be sarcastic. Besides, I already know that you have pie.”

“Doesn’t mean you can have any.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “ _Dean_.”

“ _What_?”

“We need to talk.”

“Ugh.” Dean made a wounded noise and fell back onto a work table, covering his eyes with his hand. “Why?”

Cas hopped up onto the table beside him, crossing his legs and looking down at the boy. “Because I want to know why.”

Dean uncovered his eyes and glared up at Cas. “Why what?”

“On Thursday night, after…” Cas swallowed awkwardly. “After I, um, beat you up, you took me to the hospital. Why?” Dean covered his eyes again, staying stubbornly silent. “And then you did my history homework, you made a point to tell me we could get back together, but when I tried to eat lunch with you you screamed in my face. So: why?”

Dean rolled up into a sitting position and hopped off the table. He stormed over to the door, yanking on the handles with effect.

“Dean, not only did your friends text us to tell us that they weren’t letting us out, they also wrote a note. You know that banging on the door won’t work, and you know it won’t help you avoid the question. Maybe if you answer they’ll let us out.”

Cas watched Dean lean his head against the door, breathing deeply. Then he spun around, pinned his back to the door, and spoke. “I took you to the hospital because you were unconscious. You were incredibly drunk and I had knocked you out. You could have died, and that would have been on me.”

“Dean-” He held up a hand, effectively cutting Cas off.

“I did your homework because we weren’t together anymore, but I still didn’t want you to fail. I just...I knew you didn’t want me in your life anymore, but I wasn’t quite ready to let go.” Dean was looking down and talking hurriedly, obviously anxious to get through his speech. “When I heard your voicemail, and you said...you said all that stuff, and I was pissed. Because you weren’t supposed to feel things. You were supposed to be straight. This was supposed to be a phase, an experiment, for ‘fun’. I was supposed to be the one who...well, anyway, all the sudden you were feeling things, and I was excited about it. But then I remembered that you were drunk, and figured it was just drunken ramblings. But you sounded so...reliable and sincere that I thought maybe.” He broke off, taking a deep breath before continuing. “So yesterday, when you tried to sit with us, I was afraid that you would see my table, and my friends, and my whole geeky side, and you would just walk away. And I didn’t want you to. And once I started yelling, I couldn’t stop; it felt really good to just vent everything I’ve been feeling.” Dean kept his eyes firmly on the ground, not noticing Cas slide quietly off the table and walk towards him. “I’m sorry, Cas, I’m sorry I yelled and insulted you, but I just figured that it was a game and that-”

Dean was cut off abruptly when Cas caught his lips in a kiss. Just a brush, not even a peck, but enough to get Dean to shut up and stare wonderingly at Cas. “Dean, when I was...asleep--no, stop that, it wasn’t your fault--when I was asleep I had a dream. It was about you, well, about us. We were at your house for the weekend, and we ate pie and watched Star Wars, and I counted your freckles, and we slept cuddled up in bed together, and Dean, that’s all I want. I want you and me, together. I want to help you with your Latin homework and to cheer for you at lacrosse games and robotics competitions. I want you to teach me about pop culture and to make me pies. I want weekends at your house because I _really_ like your family. I want rainy days with just the two of us cuddled up together reading books. I want to make pies with you, and study for history tests with you. I want to eat lunch with you every day and learn about all your geeky stuff. I want to take you to the dance next weekend, and I really, _really_ don’t want you to break up with me. Ever.”

The two boys stared at each other, Cas with hope in his eyes and Dean was amazement and confusion in his. At some point during his proclamation, Cas had linked their hands, pushing them to the side so he could stand as close to Dean as possible. By now practically their whole bodies were squished together, effectively pinning Dean against the door.

Dean cocked his head in an adorable imitation of Cas’ trademarked movement. Then he grinned shyly. “Cas...in the least stalkerish way possible, I would like you to know that I’ve been in love with you since September.”

There’s always a moment, in romantic comedies, when one of the leads tell each other that they’re in love, where totally awesome music swells, and the moment is completely perfect. Well Castiel had never really believed that that was a thing. Apparently it is.

Because _Dean_ had just told _Cas_ that he’d been in love with him since September. Dean was _in_ _love_ with him! Dean was-

“Since September?”

Dean blushed furiously. “Um, I meant...uh-”

“Because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I first saw you.”

They stared at each other again, except that now Dean was hearing that music. A full fucking orchestra, playing just for him. Because Cas _loved_ him! Because Cas was _in_ love with-

“Wait. Since the first moment? Like, in history class?” Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly, thinking. Cas didn’t even notice.

“No, actually, since before that. You obviously don’t remember, but I checked you in that morning, gave you your orientation packet.”

Cas smiled dopily at Dean, expecting him to--well, he wasn’t sure what he expected, but he definitely hadn’t expected the reaction he got.

Dean’s jaw set in a straight line, his eyes hardening with anger. “You _dick_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part will probably be up tomorrow (got to have time to keep you guys in suspense).
> 
> If anyone cares, the song that I was thinking of (and listening to, incidentally) was this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Awii1jnWmOY Absolutely GORGEOUS.
> 
> So, please, leave love and kudos and all that, because you are the best readers of ever and I love you!!!!!


	26. Week Four, Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of part four, obviously.

“De-” Dean shoved Cas off of him and stepped away from the door, pulled his phone from his pocket, and dialled Jo’s number.

“Joanna Beth Harvelle, you come unlock this door this instant or so help me god there will be no door left….Fine. But if you’re not here in exactly forty minutes I swear to you that there won’t be a door.” He flipped the phone shut and rounded on Cas. “Since the _beginning_? Since the first time you _saw me_?”

“Yeah, I-”

“ _The first time_? Wow, that _really_ makes me want to get back together with you, now that I know how _torturous_ this has been for you and all.”

“What? Dean, what?”

“Because I can totally imagine that it was so difficult for you to be in love with me and  never tell me, what with all the _abuse_ you were shown. How _nice_ of you to tell me now!”

Realization began to dawn on Cas’ face, and his tone softened to pleading. “Dean…”

“No, no, I understand. Because there’s really _no other way_ to tell the person that you ‘love’ that you love them than to harass them and make them do your history homework!” Cas flinched at the perky grin Dean shot him at the end of the sentence, so clearly fake. “I mean, that’s obviously where I went wrong, isn’t it? Foolish me, I still live in the age where if we want someone to fall in love with us, we just hang out with them as much as possible, even though they hate us, and hope they see the error of their ways.” Dean nodded in an understanding way, his hands clasped in front of him, as though he were learning a valuable lesson from Cas, not insulting him. Cas, wisely, stayed silent; Dean was clearly not done yet. “And even though the person I loved seemed pretty straight, I just stuck with it, because clearly I’m a fucking _masochist_! But, sorry, Castiel. What were you going to say?”

He looked at Cas expectantly, that horrible fake grin still plastered on his features. When Cas didn’t respond right away, Dean reached back and pulled up a stool, perching on it and looking up at Cas from under his long lashes. Cas cleared his throat.

“Dean…I’m not gay.”

Dean snorted. “Well, _that’s_ a great way to start this. Oh, sorry. Please, go on.”

“Like I said, I’m not gay. I never have been. I’ve always been straight. I’ve dated girls my whole life, and I always enjoyed it. I _like_ girls; I like the way they feel, and the way the talk, and walk, and exist. I just...I just _like_ girls.” Dean was still looking up at Cas through his lashes, having not moved since he sat down. “It’s not... _bad_ to be gay in my family, it’s just not expected. All my brothers are straight--well, we really don’t know about Gabriel, but he had that thing with Kali, so we _assume_ \--and it’s not like my parents are bigoted or anything, I just don’t...the topic just never came up.” Cas sighed wearily, pulling up a stool and sitting down across from Dean. He lowered his head into his hands and sighed again. “So when I saw you, and you were so completely...perfect, and I was... _feeling_ things, I freaked out. And I knew I was going to fail history, I always do, so when you made it worse by being _smart_ , I just figured that...if I was going to get over you, I was going to have to...somehow...make you less perfect. For some reason, all I could think was that maybe, if you did my homework, if you were _that_ obedient, you would be less perfect. But you _weren’t_ , you were _more_ perfect. Because you never did it perfectly, there was-”

“There was always some fault. I didn’t want you to fail, but I also didn’t want to do your homework, so I always screwed up just a little bit. Quiet rebellion.” Cas looked up at Dean, who was staring resolutely back at him. He watched Dean shrug. “Carry on.”

Cas looked at Dean, just a little longing seeping through. “And that little bit of rebellion made me want you _that much_ more. So I let my friends...go after you, as long as they didn’t touch you it was ok. I wanted you to break, and to be weak, so that I wouldn’t want you anymore. But you _didn’t_ , and you, without a doubt the most _perfect_ human being I have ever laid eyes on. And I’m...I’m sorry.”

Dean nodded again, eyes closed in thought. Slowly, he pushed himself up to a standing position, motioning for Cas to do the same. Cas stood with some trepidation, eyeing Dean carefully. Dean just stood for a moment before his eyes suddenly flashed open and he punched Cas squarely on the jaw.

“You fucking _asshole_!” A punch landed on Cas’ stomach. “You _let_ them attack me? Day after fucking day?” One to the gut. “You _wanted_ me to break, because it bothered you to be in love with me?” One to the face. “All you had to do-” A punch to the ribs. “Was to stop. Talking. To. Me.” Each word was accentuated with a punch or a stomp on Cas’ feet. Cas stood perfectly still, taking it all, knowing that he deserved it. “ _I_ would have kept loving _you_ , but you wouldn’t have had to worry about it!” With a shock, Dean pulled back, breathing heavily. Cas brought a cautious hand up to his face, flinching from the sting.

“I couldn’t have. I tried. I tried to go with other girls, but every time it came back to you. It was always you. I couldn’t shake you, even though I tried. Dean.” Cas stepped forward, taking Dean’s face between his hands. “I’ve done horrible things to you, things I can’t even imagine being able to deal with, and I’m _sorry_. I’m going to make this up to you, I swear. All I ask is that you don’t give up on me yet.”

Dean looked down at Cas, sadness filling every little bit of his big green eyes. “I couldn’t give up on you if I tried.” There was a beat of silence as the two boys stared at each other, before Dean spoke softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, you’re bleeding.”

He tried to pull Cas towards the back of the lab where they kept all the first aid equipment, but the shorter boy stuck stubbornly in his position. Dean turned back, a word of exasperation on his face, but Cas pulled Dean’s hands up to his lips and kissed the bruised knuckles softly.

When Jo arrived (exactly 39 minutes after Dean called her), they were sitting on the same side of a work table, lightly touching hands and eating pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Cas is a dick.
> 
> Love and comments (also kudos....) are appreciated, as always!


	27. Week Four, Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bold is Cas, not bold is not Cas (namely Dean).

Dean wasn’t in school on Monday, though neither were any of the nerds. They were all at a robotics competition nearly three hours away. They’d be staying the night, and if they did well, wouldn’t be coming back until Wednesday.

Cas was torn about how to feel about this. On the one hand, he hoped Dean did well because Dean was brilliant at robots and _wanted_ to do well; but on the other hand he wanted Dean near him because they’d made headway on Saturday, and he wanted to continue on that front.

It also meant that he had to sit with the Angels at lunch. Which was--to say the least--pretty awkward.

Apparently, since Dean’s little stunt earlier that week, the Angels had been fighting an internal war: Alfie, Gabriel and Balthazar seemed completely fine with Cas being gay--in fact they encouraged him--Michael and Lucifer, along with Anna and Rachel, were a united front on this being a good phase for Castiel go through, and Uriel and Naomi seemed to want to kick him out of “heaven”.

Lunch was full of ‘Well I-’s, ‘He’s not-’s, and ‘Would you-’s. Cas was ready to punch them all, just to get them to shut up. The only thing that kept him going was the steady text conversation he and Dean had had going the entire time.

 

**they won’t stop talking… :(**

lols just walk away

**they’re arguing over me. it would be rude.**

they’ve been arguing over you for nearly a week. they’ll be fine.

**but they keep asking my opinion…**

fine. you’re clearly a masochist :)

g2g robot fire

**????**

**what????**

**WHAT?????**

**are you ok???**

calm down, it was just a little fire.

just a little accident with the steering.

**…**

i may have to fire garth…

 

“Who you textin there, loverboy? Is it your _boyfriend_?”

Dean rolled his eyes, lowering his phone to protect it from Jo. “I don’t _have_ a boyfriend. I have a friend who is a boy.”

It was Jo’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah, I bet he’d love to hear you describe him like that.”

“‘Cause I’m sure that Benny loves it when you describe _him_ like that.” Jo sputtered, resorting to slapping the back of Dean’s head.

“What about me?” Benny appeared beside Jo, wiping his hands on a towel in an attempt to remove the grease from when he’d been adjusting the robot’s drive wheels. “Only good things, I hope.”

Jo turned to smile radiantly at him. “Dean’s texting Cas again.” Benny laughed.

“I know. He’s had that dopey smile on his face all day.”

“I don’t get a ‘dopey smile’ when I talk to Cas!” As if on cue, Dean’s phone went off and he glanced down at it, a smile widening across his features.

Benny and Jo glanced at each other. “Yeah, ok. Keep telling yourself that, brother.”

 

**if you fire garth he’ll probably go back to mr. fizzles. please don’t do that to us.**

the puppet? oh god no, we burned that ages ago.

**he let you burn mr. fizzles?**

did i say that we told him???

 

“Castiel!” Naomi snapped her fingers under his nose, forcing him to look up, an annoyed look crossing his face. “If you could focus for a moment, we’re trying to talk to you.”

“You’re not trying to talk to him, you’re trying to get him to break up with his boyfriend!” Cas grinned at his little brother’s defensiveness. It was brave of Gabriel to take on Naomi like that. She was terrifying.

“Technically we’re not dating.” The words were murmured, but of course everyone caught them. “We’re in a monogamous non-relationship until I can prove to him that I deserve him.”

The table was silent. It hadn’t been silent the whole lunch period, and Cas soaked it in like a drug.

Of course Lucifer had something to say. “Excuse me?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I _said_ -”

“Yeah, bro, we know what you _said_ , but what the hell are you _talking_ about?”

“That is not of import!” Naomi’s voice was loud, causing several people at a neighboring table to look around at the Angels. She leaned forward and hissed at the group: “Why should Castiel have to prove himself to that...that _nerd_? What makes him better than Castiel?”

Immediately the table burst back into debate. Cas lowered his head to the table, groaning in defeat.

 

we burned it in my backyard one night after a build sesh

**‘sesh’?**

**people still say that?**

i do.

i say lot’s of weird things.

‘keptin’, ‘i know’, ‘sweet jesus fucks’, ‘okeydokey’, ‘beam us up’.

stuff like that.

**i like the normal stuff between the geeky references.**

u got that????

**i’m not completely inept.**

I’M SO PROUD!!!!

hold on.

 

“How’d it go?”

Benny had appeared at the team’s table, supporting Garth with one arm. “Well, we did really well. Unfortunately, buddy boy over here didn’t cope too well with the stress of the thing and passed out pretty much immediately afterwards.”

Dean and Benny stared at each other for a moment. “Would it be wrong of me to laugh?”

“No. We all did.”

There was a beat more of silent staring before they broke into raucous laughter.

“Look, let’s leave him here--he’ll be fine, right?--I’ll help you with RB, and we’ll be back before he wakes up.”

“I still think it’s weird that you call our robot RB.”

“How is it weird? It’s like...his initials or something.”

Benny side-eyed Dean magnificently. “You’re such a _geek_.”

 

Cas stared down at his phone disconsolately. It had been five minutes since Dean had told him to ‘hold on’, and he’d dutifully done so. Five minutes filled with his ‘friends’ debating whether Dean was too much of a geek to require Cas to ‘earn’ a relationship.

Well, that was probably what they were still talking about. He hadn’t _really_ been listening. He was so tired of people asking him whether he was sure, or questioning when he’d become gay, or telling him that it was a ‘phase’, that Dean ‘wasn’t worth it’, that when Uriel finally got his attention and calmly asked “Why haven’t you gotten over that freak yet?”, Cas _probably_ over-reacted.

He practically leaped over the table, grabbing Uriel by the collar, yanking him out of his seat and shoving him up against the wall. “ _What_ did you call him?” His words were a dangerous hiss, and he was practically spitting in Uriel’s face.

But Uriel was an idiot. “What he is: a freak.”

Cas’ jaw twitched, but he refused to punch anyone after what had happened at the party, so he attempted to channel all his rage into his words. “That’s what I thought. You listen to me, you insignificant little _worm_. Dean Winchester is twice--no, at least _five times_ \--the man you could ever even dream to be. He’s kind, and funny, he’s brilliant, he’s handsome, he makes me smile. He is a fucking _joy_ to be around. He is _not_ a freak. If anyone is a freak, _Uriel_ , it’s you and your backwards-thinking, 12th century mindset.” Cas paused to take a breath, not noticing all the cameras pointed in his direction. “Be warned, Uriel Lucas, that if I ever hear you speak a bad word about Dean Winchester--be it in word, on paper, or even in a poorly worded text or other internet message--that it shall be the last thing you ever do.” Stepping back, Cas dropped Uriel to the ground, swinging around to face his lunch table, hardly even seeing them in his furious rage.

“Anyone else?” They all shook their heads hurriedly. “Good.” In a single, sweeping motion, Cas was around the table, had picked up his phone, and walked away from the table, not once looking back.

 

**i may have done something rash…**

**on the plus side, i am no longer at that table.**

**and they probably won’t bother you again.**

cas what did you do?

cas is this for real?

**is what for real? i didn’t tell you anything.**

you didn’t have to.

**???**

sent: novakbeingabamf.wmv

**ah. i didn’t realize i was being filmed.**

**was that ok?**

**did i go too far?**

**dean???**

no...cas...just...we should talk when i get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Monday...I have a two hour delay tomorrow because of snow. I'm having a GOOD day.
> 
> (I wonder how Dean is going to deal with this...huh?)
> 
> Kudos, comments (especially love) are always appreciated.
> 
> (Because it's always more fun when even the writer doesn't know, isn't it?...)
> 
> But actually, you guys are the best readers of, like, ever in the history of ever. I couldn't have asked for a better set of people to read this story. I love you all for actually putting up with my ramblings (and liking it??? who knew???) Y'all ROCK!


	28. Week Five, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday, as told through texts, voicemails, and one call.  
> Key: Dean is still not bold, Cas is still bold, voicemails are italics.

good news or bad new first?

**...good?**

really?

fine.

sent: scoreboard.jpg

**top ten! good job!**

**what’s the bad news?**

we have to stay tomorrow too…

**oh.**

**i’ll see you thursday then?**

yeah.

**good luck.**

**i hope you win.**

thanks cas.

good luck in your game tonight.

**how’d you know about that??**

:)

 

_“Hey, Cas, it’s me. Obviously you’re not picking up the phone right now, but I just...I think we should talk. Good luck with the game, I hope you win. Be great for me, won’t you? All right, I’ll call you later. Bye.”_

 

**did you call me???**

**dean???**

 

sorry...just got your text. rb’s been acting weird.

...i’m serious about firing garth…

sucks that he’s our best driver…

**you really like ‘...’ don’t you?**

it’s visually pleasing don’t you think?

**no.**

...well...that...sucks...doesn’t...it…?

…

…

…

**i hate you.**

no you don’t :)

**g2g, ballin.**

omg did you actually just say that????

you’re such a loser i can’t even.

 

**you call your robot ‘rb’. i don’t think i’m the loser...**

 

_“Cas, there ain’t no way in hell that your game is still going on, so pick up your damn phone. Shit, gotta go. Call me the hell back!”_

 

_“Dean? Are you ok? You seem stressed. Sorry about not calling before, we stopped at Wawa for dinner. Call me back, ok? I’m gonna text you too...make sure everything’s going alright. Hope tomorrow goes well for you guys, hope you win. Jesus-get--I have to go.”_

 

...we have horrible timing

**yes.**

i mean, really. three calls, and we haven’t gotten each other once?

what god is conspiring against us?

**there’s only one god, sir, and i don’t think he cares about us.**

**...dean???**

 

“Did you just quote Captain America at me?”

“Um, well, yes.”

“Cause that is the sexiest thing anyone’s ever done for me over text. I take back everything I ever said: you’re a geek.”

“It’s sexy that I quoted Captain America? It wasn’t even a sexy phrase!”

“Thought that counts.”

They both laughed, letting the sound die off into nothing before Cas spoke: “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean sounded almost frightened now that he actually had to talk to Cas. “Just...about what you said at lunch.” Cas remained silent, sensing that Dean had more to say. “You...you threatened your friends. For me.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re worth it.”

Dean’s laugh was hollow. “No I’m not.”

Cas tilted his head in confusion before realizing Dean couldn’t see him. “Yes, you are.”

“Cas, barely two days ago I beat you over the head because I was pissed off.”

“You were pissed off because I’m a dick.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t have a good reason to be pissed off….But I did beat you up, and you still...still protected me like that.”

Cas shrugged, then practically slapped himself for forgetting that Dean still couldn’t see him. “I love you.” There was no response. “Dean? Dean, you ok?” He pulled his phone away from his face and looked down at the screen: _Call ended._

 

**dean, i don’t know what i did this time.**

**i’m sorry if i upset you.**

**please respond.**

**i’m getting worried.**

**dean….**

sorry cas. just thinking.

you didn’t upset me. i just need to think.

i’ll call you back tomorrow.

night cas.

**night dean.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAN I GET A HELL YEAH FOR WEEK FIVE????
> 
> Please, tell me your thoughts...I NEED to know.
> 
> Love, as always, so much love, eternal and everlasting.


	29. Week Five, Part One-and-a-Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie is a Queen.

Dean was sitting in a folding chair, twirling his phone in his hands. He looked down at the offending object and sighed.

“Dean?” He looked up to see Charlie staring at him worriedly. “Are you alright?” In response, he just sighed at her. “Okay, I guess not. Want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Huh, that’s great. I don’t care.” She plopped down happily into the chair beside him, pulling it around so she could look him in the eyes. “Is this about Cas?” Dean looked down at his phone again, realizing that he was still twirling it nervously. “What did he do, Dean?”

Dean looked back up at his friend, her green eyes locking on his. He sighed again. “He just...you saw the video, right?” Charlie nodded. “Well, I asked him why he...you know...did it. And he said that it was because he loved me.”

Charlie nodded seriously, fighting to keep from laughing. “Right...and this is news to you?” At Dean’s shocked expression, she let her laugh peal out. “I mean, didn’t he tell you he loved you on, like, Saturday?”

Dean sputtered. “Well, yes, but-”

“Dean, he’s been in love with you since forever. It’s totally obvious.”

“What?”

Charlie chuckled fondly at Dean’s confused expression. “He’s been in love with you as long as you’ve been in love with him, man.”

“But it’s, it’s-”

“Not logical?” Dean rolled his eyes at her, making her giggle. “But seriously, what did you say back?”

Groaning, Dean handed her his phone, letting her go through the text messages on her own, filling her in on the voicemails and phone call when she got to those parts. When she was finished, she laid the phone down and slapped the side of his head. Hard.

“The hell, Char?”

“‘I need to think’? What were you thinking? He probably thinks you want to break up with him! You idiot!” She went to slap him again, only missing because he ducked before she could. “Call him back. Tonight. Or Skype him. Or whatever.”

Dean mumbled something in response, rolling his eyes at Charlie’s raised eyebrow. “I _said_ , he’s expecting me to call tomorrow.”

“Fine! So, game plan: tonight you call. Leave a voicemail. Tell him you’re stupid, apologize. All the romantic crap. Then tomorrow you Skype him during one of our breaks. Ok?”

_“Fine.”_

  
_“Hey Cas. I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier, I was just...well, it was...I’m just sorry, ok? But anyway, I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could Skype or something? My screen name’s Dean_Nerdchester….Charlie picked it, I swear. Maybe during lunch or something? It could be like a date. So just...text me, or call me back or something. Or just, you know, log onto Skype and find me. If you don’t want to, just don’t respond. I’d get that. Again, Cas, I’m sorry. So...yeah. Bye.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this happened.


	30. Week Five, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A (kind-of) face-to-face heart-to-heart. Over Skype.

“Cas? Cas, can you hear me?”

“Hear? Yes. See? No.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Stop rolling your eyes at me; I’m technologically challenged, okay?” He chuckled despite himself as he watched Cas struggle with his computer. “Wait.” Cas’ eyes flashed towards the screen. “Can _you_ see _me_?”

“Well, yes.”

“ _Dean_!”

Dean laughed outright, doubling over before his computer. “I-I’m sorry, man, but you really are struggling, aren’t you?” Cas glared at the computer screen. “Ok….have you tried switching on ‘video’? Cause that might help.”

Cas huffed at the screen, making Dean grin again. “Yes, Dean, I switched on video. It’s just not working!”

“Ok, ok, I get it! It doesn’t work, calm down!” Dean glanced down, then looked back up at the screen, nervous. “We could always just…do it like this. We could just...talk.”

“But it’s not fair that you get to see me and I don’t get to see you.”

“You’re cute when you pout.”

Cas rolled his eyes, giving up on the computer for a moment. “ _Fine_. Let’s talk. But this isn’t fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Cas.” The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes again, a prompt for Dean to get the hell on with it. “But um, anyway, the reason I wanted to talk is that…well, last night…I wasn’t exactly fair to you. When you...when you said you loved me, I just...I got a little freaked out, I guess.”

“But I told you I loved you on Saturday.” Cas had tilted his head in that bird-like way that Dean found _far_ too adorable. “And you reciprocated the sentiment. Why should my saying it now cause you concern?”

Dean rolled his head, cracking his neck in an attempt to aleve his stress. “It’s not...concern, per se, it’s just that...well, did I ever tell you what Alistair told me?” The way Cas narrowed his eyes told Dean that _no_ , he hadn’t. He chuckled darkly. “Well, probably, I don’t know, about a week after this whole thing started, he cornered me in the science building--you know, in my little nook?--and he started talking about us, and about _you_ , in particular. Told me that...that you weren’t gay, and that this was all some sort of elaborate ploy to break my spirit. And Cas, man, I didn’t have any reason not to believe him.” Dean paused. Cas watched him expectantly. “At the time, all I knew was that you’d been letting your friends torture me for months, and that all you seemed to want out of me was your history homework, so I-I-”

“You assumed he was telling the truth. After all, as you said, you had no reason not to believe him.” Dean nodded, before realizing that Cas couldn’t see him.

“And man, I had the greatest plan to get back at you. I was going to make you fall for me, fall really, _really_ hard, and  then I was going to dump your sorry ass. It was going to be the ultimate payback for everything you’d done to me.” He fell silent again, watching Cas listen to him. “But I couldn’t do it. Because I _was_ in love with you, and it just...it didn’t feel right to make you feel the same thing I felt. I guess...I guess I figured that if you were going to do it to me, then it wouldn’t matter because…because I had nothing left to lose.”

Cas opened his mouth as if to interrupt him, but Dean cut him off. “And the more we were together, the more we hung out, the more it seemed like Alistair had been wrong, that you _did_ like me, that maybe...maybe this could last. But then the party...and all those things you said. And it all just felt so _true_. And I guess I just assumed that he’d been telling the truth.” Dean sighed heavily. “ _So_ , on Saturday, when I told you I loved you, that I’d _been_ in love with you since September, and you said that you had been too, I was excited. I mean, I was really freakin’ excited. But then I went on a three and a half hour car trip, and when I’m left to just my thoughts, bad things happen. The more we drove the more I convinced myself that Alistair was right, and that you were just fucking with me; that you only said you loved me because I’d said it and you thought it would be the perfect ammunition. Then you said it again yesterday and I...I just didn’t know exactly what to think.”

Cas looked a little shell-shocked, staring at the screen the way he was; it was concerning. “Dude, you ok?”

“What? I--yes. Just...that was quite the confession.”

Dean felt his stomach turn a little. “Oh god, sorry. That was too much, god I’m sorry. I didn’t--”

“Don’t say you didn’t mean it.” Cas’ tone was stern, commanding. “Don’t say you didn’t mean it unless you really didn’t mean it.”

“Um...no. I...I meant it.”

Cas’ expression didn’t change, though it seemed to Dean that his eyes had softened a little at hearing that Dean had meant his words. “Good. Because I will only say this once before I go to French. Do you understand?”

“Um, yes?” Cas just raised an eyebrow at the screen. “Yes.”

“Good. Here goes: Dean Robert Winchester, I am in love with you. I have _been_ in love with you since the first time I ever saw you, on August 27th, 2013. I shall _continue_ to be in love with you until I am forced to stop, be it by death or otherwise. I will _always_ stand up for you, protect you, and defend you as is needed. This is something you have to understand, because it is the truth. It is the only truth, and is apparently something you don’t quite understand yet.” He paused, took a breath, and continued. “I have to go to French now, but I want you to know that I love you, and that I will continue to tell you that every chance I get until you understand it. Goodbye Dean, good luck with RB. I love you.”

With that, Cas slapped his computer shut, effectively terminating the call. Dean stared at his computer in shock, not blinking for a good minute or two. “I love you too, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skype's a bitch.


	31. Week Five, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday, which is why its set during Thursday, but I didn't have any internet so I just...didn't.

“Cas! Cas? Cas, what are you doing?”

Cas turned from where he was standing by his bed to look at Dean, breaking into a wide grin. “Hi Dean. I’m, well, I’m packing.”

“Why?” Dean stepped into the room, standing close to his friend’s side and staring at him. “What did you do?” Cas turned to stare back at Dean, holding it for a moment before leaning in to kiss him. “ _Cas!_ ” Dean pulled away before the kiss could land, rolling his eyes at the boy’s antics.

Sighing, Cas turned back to his black duffel bag. “I, uh...I’ve been suspended. For three days. This is technically my first day of suspension, so I’ll be back Sunday night. I shouldn’t even be talking to you right now.”

As if on cue, a teacher stepped through Cas’ door. “Dean, I’m sorry, but you can’t speak to Castiel right now. He has to get going, don’t you young man?”

“Yes T. Ben.” Cas’ response was dutiful, clearly Castiel, not Cas. Then he looked sideways at Dean, almost shyly. “Could we just...have a moment?” Ben, a newer teacher, eyed the two suspiciously before nodding his head and stepping back out of the room. “Look, Dean, I’ll text you or email you as soon as I get the chance, but in the meantime ask Alfie what happened. I’ll see you on Monday, ok?”

Dean stared at Cas, standing almost too close to him. He nodded, making Cas smile. They stared for a moment, just memorizing each others’ eyes. Then, slowly, Cas jolted forward, catching Dean’s lips in a kiss. It was soft and sweet, just the two of them holding hands while their mouths moved slowly against the others. Sighing, Dean pulled his hands from Cas’, latching them on the boy’s waist to pull them closer.

“Mm-hm!” T. Ben’s cough was loud in the dorm room, causing the boys to pull slowly apart. “Ready?”

Cas looked almost mournfully at Dean, sighing a “Yeah.” He gave Dean a hug, digging his nose into Dean’s neck and breathing him in: he smelled like cinnamon and something...shea butter? “I’ll miss you,” He whispered quietly. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Cas.”

“Castiel!” T. Ben rapped the door frame anxiously, making Cas release his choke-hold on Dean’s spine. “It’s time to go.” Sighing, Cas grabbed his duffel off the bag, leaned up to give Dean another quick kiss, and walked slowly out the door. “Have a good day, Dean.”

Dean watched them go, huffing. Well this wasn’t fair; he’d been looking forward to spending the day (weekend) with Cas, getting to know him better. Instead Cas was getting shipped off somewhere because he’d done something stupid (again) and had gotten suspended for it. _Talk to Alfie. Alfie._ Dashing out of the room, Dean bounded along the hallway until he found Alfie’s room, and banged on the door.

“Alfie! Alfie, open the door! Alfie!”

“ _What?_ " A sleep-disheveled Alfie opened the door, blinking sleep from his eyes. “What do you want, Dean?”

Dean shoved past Alfie, dragging the boy back into his room. “Tell me what happened to Cas. Why’d he get suspended?”

“Huh?” Alfie blinked up at Dean from where he sat on his bed. Suddenly clarity cleared his eyes. “Oh...that. Didn’t know he’d gotten suspended...not surprised, though.”

“But what happened?”

“ _Well_ he, um, he got in a fight. With Alistair. Said some things, shouted a bit, threw some punches, got suspended, apparently.”

Dean blinked at Alfie, whether from confusion or annoyance the younger boy couldn’t tell. Alfie yawned, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. Apparently Dean wasn’t on board with that idea. “Alfie, man, you gotta give me more than that. What did they fight about? Did he hurt Alistair? Where’s he going?”

Alfie closed one eye, the other squinting enough to make Dean fuzzy. “If I tell you, will you go away and let me sleep. I have a free first, so….”

“Yeah yeah, Alf, whatever you want. Just hurry up.”

His day visibly brightened by the prospect of sleep, Alfie grinned. “Well, they were fighting about you. I don’t know exactly what was said--I wasn’t close enough to hear all the specifics, but your name definitely came up. A lot.” There was a strange victorious feeling that arose with the surprisal on Dean’s face; it seemed that Alfie had finally managed to one-up his hero. “Cas seemed pretty pissed, like _righteously_ angry, more than a usual pissed off. And he was just shouting at Alistair really, wasn’t touching him or anything, until Al reached out and just shoved at his shoulder a little bit. It wasn’t even really enough to knock him off balance at all, but it...uh, apparently it was the tipping point, cause after that Cas was all over him. He practically beat the guy to a pulp, shouting at him the whole time. And Alistair was giving it back. It was actually pretty incredible to watch, you know, until the teachers pulled ‘em off each other and dragged them away. They both stood on Discipline Council last night, and apparently they got suspended.” Alfie shrugged, yawning widely in Dean’s face, hoping the boy would leave so he could sleep.

Instead Dean sat down on the bed beside him, a dazed expression on his face. “They were fighting...about me?” Alfie nodded, yawning again. “Huh...Alfie, what time was this? Right around lunch?”

“Yeah, actually. It was weird, because Cas should have been in French.”

“Oh.” _So, when Cas had said he was going to lunch he was...oh._ “Uh, thanks, Alf. I’ll just...I’ll just go now.”

“Mm-k.”

Dean practically flashed out of the room and down the stairs to the lunch room. Settling himself in a chair with a mug of tea, he pulled out his phone, not even expecting a response:

 

sent 7:22: that was...noble.

received 8:14: **i try**

sent 8:45: remind me to thank you when you get back :)

received 8:47: **i will**

sent 9:31: how’s exile?

received 9:32: **boring as fuck but with a phone. how’s prison?**

sent 10:16: lonely and sad

sent 10:17: you should come back

received 10:20: **…**

sent 10:22: yeah i know…

sent 10:23: where are you anyway?

sent 10:34: cas?

sent 10:45: cas you ok?

sent 11:30: seriously, any time now...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not...entirely sure what to think of this chapter..you? Anyone? Anyone?


	32. Week Five, Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To make up for not posting lately, I've incorporated Thursday, Friday, Saturday, AND Sunday into one chapter for your viewing pleasures!  
> Basically, Dean has the worst timing ever.

THURSDAY

 

received 6:30 pm: **sorry i didn’t respond earlier, my host family took my phone. stole it back to tell you. won’t be responding for awhile. miss you. please keep writing. love you**

 

FRIDAY

 

“Should I keep writing?” Dean looked at Charlie nervously, rotating the phone around in his hands, just to have something to do.

She looked at him incredulously. “Of _course_ you should, you dolt! It’s like a diary or something.”

“Never been much for diaries.” His words were muttered, but of course Charlie heard him anyway, and whacked him on the back of the head.

“Just write, please.”

Dean looked around at the rest of the table pleadingly, asking for help. Becky, Jo and Garth were staring back at him, daring him not to write; Benny, Chuck and Ash looked like they couldn’t give a shit; and Kevin was just trying to do his Latin homework.

“ _Fine_.” His words were more of a sigh, but it got the girls off his back, and they could move back to more comfortable topics of conversation. Like gay space explorers.

 

hey cas...this feels really weird, but charlie and jo made me do it, so here goes nothing i guess

i think t. ted’s trying to kill us

heh...alliteration….

i’m such a freak

ugh, history’s killing me

#popquizzessuck

i miss you

would’ve texted this morning but physics was a bitch

hope you don’t mind

where are you cas? nearby? seven hours away? stuck in a tower growing your hair out?

do i need to rescue you?

rb’s gone on a murderous rampage

 

“How’s the diary?”

Benny plopped down on the bench next to Dean, ripping open the wrapping on a cherry popsicle. Dean rolled his eyes at the boy, looking at him with worry in his eyes.

“Firstly, it’s not a diary, it’s a log of my life as written in texts.” Benny scoffed. “Secondly, how do you eat those things in February? It’s like, twenty degrees outside. And, thirdly, what’s up with your cherry obsession? Do you want everyone to think you’re a vampire or something?”

In response, Benny just smirked at Dean, flashing him a glimpse of red-stained teeth. “Uh huh. Good luck with the ‘log of your life’, brother.”

“Up yours, Cullen!”

 

i have a fuck-ton of homework, cas.

if you were here you could entertain me.

why aren’t you here?

you don’t have to be so fucking noble all the time, you know.

i can take care of myself.

...sorry. i’m going to do my homework.

samdancing.wmv

this is what you’re missing right now.

also this: pie.jpg

night cas. sweet dreams.

 

SATURDAY

 

morning cas

i have to go to work this morning so i probably won’t write a lot

mmm...tea and pie

breakfastwiththegirls.jpg

mornings at frans…relaxing

g2g...got to bake pies

 

“Castiel, aren’t you going to eat your breakfast?” Cas stifled the desire to roll his eyes at his host father. The man was just so _annoying_ , always asking Cas whether or not he was going to do things, even when he meant as a direct command. “Castiel?”

Bringing himself back to the moment, Cas forced a smile at the elderly man across the table from him. “Yessir, sorry sir, just thinking.”

“Healthy pursuit for a young lad.” Mr. Hautman nodded his head slowly. “More people should think, don’t you agree, Castiel?”

“Yessir. Actually, Mr. Hautman-”

“Pete, please.”

“Well, Pete. If you don’t mind, I think I’m just going to go-”

Mr. Hautman chuckled. “Oh, Castiel. You’re still in trouble, remember? No, you’re going to sit there and finish your waffles, and then we’re going to the hardware store.” He smiled pleasantly at Cas, as though expecting the boy to thank him.

Sighing, Cas tore into his waffles with his knife. “Yessir.” He sighed again as he shoved the bit of waffle into his mouth and wondered what Dean was doing right now.

 

allthepies.jpg

morning rush done!

what did you have for breakfast?

i hope it was delicious.

are you having fun wherever you are?

i wear a trash bag as an apron when i work. don’t know why. always have.

i was thinking about getting a cute fancy one...like this: [myapronlove.jpg](http://www.ebay.com/itm/like/251273071122?lpid=82)

your thoughts?

sigh...i keep forgetting you’re not going to respond…

awfully lonely this diary business...fucking depressing actually

...though in retrospect i’m glad you’re not voldemort…

when you get your phone back you better respond to all this shit

miss you, cas.

jesus christ i’m covered in coffee.

 

Dean sighed as he stared down at his phone, willing it to buzz. He’d never admit this to anyone, but texting Cas without getting a response was quickly becoming his new favorite thing. He’d have to look into this whole diary idea. Maybe start blog or something. Who knows?

Suddenly, his phone buzzed loudly. He pounced on it, his heart beating a little faster at the thought that it might be Cas.

Or Sam. Apparently it could also be Sam.

“What, Sammy?”

“Geez, calm down. Mom just wants to know if you can drop by the hardware store on the way home.”

“What’s she need?”

“Plants.”

Dean slapped his head in annoyance. “That means I have to go all the way out to the Home Depot!”

“Yeah well dad took the truck, and mom doesn’t want all that dirt in the back of her car.”

“Fine. Just text me what she wants and I’ll grab it. And tell her she’s paying me the hell back for this shit….Maybe not in those exact words.”

“No shit, jerk.”

“Shut up, bitch. See ya, Sammy.”

“Laters!”

Dean dropped the phone to the counter, wandering out into the front of the diner at Fran’s shouted “Boy!”. When he returned with the dish cart, he glanced down at his phone hopefully.

It still hadn’t buzzed.

 

could have sworn i just saw you at home depot

but why would you be with pete hautman

dude’s weird. nice, but weird.

you know how old people are.

he’d probably drive you insane with the weird way he talks.

always asking questions.

whatever.

he was acting weird, too. like he was trying to avoid me.

told me he already had help to plant his damn tomato seeds.

yeah right. no one except me ever helps the old coot.

god did i really just say that?

i need help.

hope you’re having fun. wherever you are.

night cas. sweet dreams.

 

SUNDAY

 

“Sir-”

“Pete.”

“Pete, right. Um, the thing is, Pete, I don’t really do church anymore.”

“Nonsense, it’ll be good for you.” Cas looked at Mr. Hautman, raising an eyebrow but not daring to verbally disagree. “What you need, boy, is a little religion. Hard work and religion, best things for a growing boy. After all, didn’t planting those seeds yesterday make you feel better?”

Tearing up the ground with a trowel had been pretty nice, good way to vent his anger, so… “Well, yes.”

“There you go, then! We’re going.”

 

“Mom.”

“Dean.”

“Mom.”

“Dean."

“ _Mom_.”

“ _Dean_.”

“ _Mom_.”

“Dean, listen to your mother.” John raised an eyebrow at Dean over the top of his glasses as he hid behind the crossword puzzle.

“But I hate going to church. Look, can’t I just stay here? I’ll do my homework, bake a pie--some lemon squares for you, dad--and clean the house. It’ll be great. Like having your own maid. Take Sammy, he loves church.”

Mary rolled her eyes affectionately at her oldest son. “We always take Sam. Besides, you had fun last week.”

“There! There’s another reason not to go, I went last week! Please?” Dean pulled his best impression of Sammy’s puppy-dog eyes, making his mother smile at him. He batted his eyelids for affect.

“ _Fine_. But there had better be peach.”

Dean smiled glowlingly at his mother, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. “Thanks, mom!” He shot a victorious look at John over Mary’s shoulder.

His father rolled his eyes, suppressing a grin. “Those lemon squares had better be _amazing_.”

 

yay for getting out of church!

you’re going back to school tonight right?

that means you’ll get your phone back?

you’d better respond to all these texts.

maybe i’ll even bake you something, who knows.

look i’m baking: yummyeatsnotforyou.jpg

um...you were at my church????

you talked to my family???

imma kill sammy for not telling me this before!

i woulda been there in a second if i’d known…

...i miss you.

think i’ve told you that already.

several times.

still true though.

i’m gonna watch star wars to make myself feel better

DAMN i’m a good baker

deal: if you become a linguist, i’ll become a baker. ok?

any response would be nice. any at all.

you must be back at school by now. with your phone. and texting capabilities. right?

come on, man, any time now.

star wars is over.

i watched all three episodes.

that’s sixish straight hours in which you did not respond.

it’s nearly midnight.

night cas. sweet fucking dreams.

  
received 1:15 am: **G** **ood morning, Dean.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoyment? Confusion? Hatred? Leave your responses in the comments section below! It is ALWAYS appreciated!
> 
> As always, eternal love to everyone who's putting up with these ramblings and (dare i say it?) enjoying it. (Of course if I've read you wrong and you actually hate it, that's cool too, though i don't know why you'd keep reading if you hated it...to each their own, i guess.)
> 
> LOVE!


	33. Week Five, Timestamp: The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone, at all, cared about the Cas-Alistair fight.

Alfie was standing under an old maple tree when Cas broke Alistair’s nose.

(This was, coincidentally, pretty much the same time Alfie hit his head on the tree. Actually, this was not coincidental at all as it was Alistair stumbling back into Alfie that made Alfie fall into the tree.)

He had been checking the tree to make sure it was in good health when Alistair appeared and began to talk at Alfie. While being the best friend of Lucifer’s favorite brother protected Alfie from abuse, he often got the feeling that Alistair was mocking him anyway, but at least now he had something to do other than look at a tree. It was the first of sixteen trees he had to check, and he was already bored out of his mind.

So, while Alfie wasn’t exactly thrilled that Cas had chosen that moment to start an argument with Alistair, he wasn’t exactly sad about it either.

The school encouraged healthy disagreements, so as long as the students kept it to a heated, low-volume argument, they were fine; if they got into a fist fight, all bets were off as far as discipline was concerned.

Alfie knew it was going to shit by the way Cas approached them: it wasn’t Cas’ usual relaxed movement, his steps were clean and precise, and he was _speed walking_. That always meant bad things for someone.

“Hey!” It was definitely a shout, a quiet one, but a shout nonetheless.

Alistair turned to face Cas with a smile on his face. “Castiel. How nice to see you. Are you well this day? How’s Dean?”

Cas returned the smile, his seeming a little more forced. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Alistair raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Cas, smile never leaving his face. “Yeah, he says you told him that this was a phase, and that I was going to...how did he put it? Oh yeah, ‘break his heart’?”

“Castiel, that was weeks ago, surely Dean knows I was just messing with him.”

“Just messing?” Alfie stiffened at the sound of Cas’ voice: it was pitched low and dangerous, the sound only a fool would ignore.

Or a masochistic lunatic, apparently.

“Yes, of course. Just messing.” Closing his eyes, Alfie turned back to the tree, just willing them to go away. He willed it so hard that he missed whatever it was that Cas said next, because suddenly, Alistair was pissed. “Look, Cas, you want to know what I told him?”

A mantra of ‘ _No. No no no no no. Please, no_.’ was playing on repeat in Alfie’s head as he listened to the two boy’s argue.

“I told him that--and I’m paraphrasing myself here, cause this was about a month ago--that this whole ‘relationship’ thing was just a plot to mess with him, that you and Samandriel over here had been cooking it up for weeks. I told him that there was no way a ladies man like you would go gay for a nerdy freaky fag overnight. I told him that you were going to break him so much harder than I ever had, because you taught me what I know.” Alistair stopped talking, smirking at Cas.

Cas nodded contemplatively, took a step back, and made eye contact with Alfie over Alistair’s shoulder. Alfie was pissed, he was pretty sure that was clear on his face. Nodding again, Cas looked down at the grass. Then, suddenly, he sprang forward and punched Alistair on the nose.

Alistair stumbled back, surprised, right into a slightly shocked Alfie--Cas had said he wasn’t going to punch people anymore; he must be really pissed (though with good reason)--who fell back onto the tree.

Springing forward, Alistair threw a punch at Cas’ shoulder, trying to knock him off balance. Practically snorting, Cas dodged the punch, slipped around Alistair, and slammed him in the small of his back with his elbow. Alistair fell forward, doing a neat ninja roll and jumping back up to his feet, turning to circle Cas. Cas was just moving to grab hold of Alistair once more when loud voices came from the direction of the school:

“Castiel!” All three boys turned to see Michael and Lucifer striding towards them, looking furious. “Castiel, step away from Alistair!” Alistair started to smirk at Cas when Lucifer caught him by the scruff of his neck and glared at him venomously. “He’s not worth it.”

Leaving Michael to deal with Alfie and his possible head injury, Lucifer frog-marched the two boys to the principal’s office. He couldn’t very well let them off when everyone who’d been on the lawn had seen the short brawl.

“T. Greg, these two boys had an altercation on the lawn.” Shoving Cas and Alistair into the office, Lucifer slammed the door shut and walked away, shaking his head over the actions of his usually composed little brother.

T. Greg stared at the two boys over the top of his glasses, almost as though he was too bored to care about it but was required to anyway. “An altercation?”

“He’s a dick, I threw a few punches, that was it.” Cas shrugged, not giving two shits about cursing in front of the principal. Alistair rolled his eyes but said nothing. The principal looked back and forth between them, then sighed.

“Well you’ll have to stand before Discipline Council tonight, you’ll probably be suspended for a week or less, with this being a first offense for you both and it not being that serious. You shall  sit here with me the rest of the day. Please collect any books or reading materials you’ll need to entertain yourselves, as I shall be confiscating your mobiles immediately.” With that, T. Greg held out a small basket expectantly. Sighing, the two boys dropped their phones into the basket, Cas catching a glimpse of ‘new message’ flashing on his screen. He sighed again.

As soon as he had the phones, T. Greg returned to his work. “Well? Go get your things and be back in ten minutes.”

 

“So, what happened?”

Cas was technically Catholic, so confessing his sins wasn’t anything new to him, he’d been going to confession his entire life after all, but there was something terrifying about telling two classmates and ten teachers about a five-minute fight he’d had earlier that day.

He swallowed nervously. “Um...Alistair said some things about my boyfriend and I that I didn’t appreciate, so I punched him. Then he attempted to retaliate and I elbowed him in the back. Then my brother’s appeared and pulled us apart.”

The room looked at them speculatively. “Alistair, do you have anything to add?”

Alistair rolled his head from side to side in a mock of deep thought. “Nope..that sounds about right.”

Blinking, the teachers and students huddled together. For thirty long minutes, Cas and Alistair sat aimlessly in the front of the classroom, Alistair trying to convince Cas to play Miss Mary Mack with him to pass the time. Finally, they spoke: “Castiel Novak and Alistair Heyerdahl, you have both been rewarded a three day suspension from the school grounds, effective 8:00 tomorrow morning. You must return by 7:30 Sunday night. You will also be placed on probation, and any leadership positions you are currently in possession of are henceforth revoked. Do you understand?”

“Yessir.” The two boys chorused their answer.

“Very well. Please return to your rooms and pack. A teacher will be at your rooms tomorrow morning at 7:30 to collect you in case your host family cannot make it. Good evening, boys.”

And it was done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...yeah. That's all I've got. I'll probably post another chapter (you know, about today...) later. Depends on how long I have to work for. Here's hoping.


	34. Week Five, Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, as promised...about an hour ago.

received 1:15 am: **good morning, Dean.**

Dean stared at his phone incredulously, blinking. He looked up at his alarm clock: 5:30 AM, then back down at his phone, making sure the message was still there. Sighing, Dean shoved himself out of bed, padding down the hall to the bathroom. He’d talk to Cas when he got to school; for now he needed breakfast.

****

There was a thermos in his locker. Dean sniffed it hopefully, and was rewarded by the exact scent he’d wanted it to be: Earl Grey with a little bit of honey. Perfect. Smiling happily into the tea fumes, he was lifting the thermos to his lips when someone touched his shoulder.

“Hello, Dean.” Dean could feel Cas’ smile when the shorter boy pressed his lips softly to his neck. It felt nice, he’d have to get Cas to do it more often.

“Hey Cas.”

Dean took a sip of tea, burning his tongue on the steaming liquid. “Dean? What’s wrong?” When Dean didn’t respond, Cas rested his head on Dean’s shoulder lightly, murmuring directly into his ear. “Is this because I didn’t text you back last night? Because I’m really sorry about that. And I have an excuse, I promise.”

“An excuse?” Dean raised his eyebrow, halfway between teasing and serious questioning. “Can I hear it?”

Stepping back, Cas pulled Dean away from his locker to the small group of chairs by the door. He pushed Dean into a chair and settled across from him, leaning forward to place his hands on Dean’s knees and began rubbing small circles on them. “Well, I got back from Mr. Hautman’s house--you were right, he’s _insanely_ annoying with all his questions--at about 7:30ish, and he gave me back my phone. Once I got back on campus I had to report to T. Greg to let him know that I was there and swear on my mother’s grave that I wouldn’t cause any more trouble. And he took my phone while I did three hours of work in the kitchen. When I got my phone back, at like, eleven, it had died and I was sent off to bed. While it was charging I read a book and...um, I fell asleep.” Cas ducked his head as he admitted that he’d fallen asleep in an adorable show of embarrassment. “I woke up again at...god, I don’t know...twelve something. Late, I know that. And I read all your texts, and they were, might I add, absolutely _wonderful_. I wanted to kiss you just reading them.” Another little head-duck, alerting Dean that whatever was coming next was apparently embarrassing to Cas. “Anyway, by the time I read them, and...re-read them...and just sat around thinking about how perfect you are...it was about 1:15. So I responded with a simple ‘good morning’ in hopes that it would brighten your day, and went back to sleep.” He shrugged. “And that’s my whole excuse.”

Dean blinked at him, taking another sip of tea as a barrier to be allowed to think. He took another sip, this time just to give himself more time to enjoy Cas’ worried face. Then he leaned down, placed the thermos on the floor, and kissed Cas. Not much, just a soft, sweet kiss. Pulling away slowly, Dean didn’t miss the way Cas followed him backwards. “I missed you.”

Cas’ eyes opened slowly, and he smiled, his whole face lighting up like a little kid. “I missed you, too.” He leaned forward to kiss Dean again, a kiss cut short when he pulled away and pouted. “I can’t believe you didn’t come to church.” Dean laughed. “And Home Depot. How did we miss each other at Home Depot?” Dean rocked forward in a laugh, enjoying the way Cas’ eyes lit up happily when he did so.

“You’re such a weirdo, Cas.” Reaching forward, Dean pulled Cas into another kiss, this one broken up to accommodate their laughter.

****

“You ever consider playing in goal, Cas?” Cas looked at Dean from where their lacrosse sticks were touching lightly, covering the ball so they could start play. “I mean, you’ve definitely got the reflexes for it, and you’re pretty much the perfect height: just a little under six foot; and you’re pretty damn fearless.” Dean paused, considering. “Which I have to admit gives me pause. Don’t want you hurting yourself out there.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Dean. I’ve been playing basketball for three years against guys twice my size. I’ve been playing lacrosse just as long, and I’m fine.” Dean was silent. “What?”

“The whole basketball thing makes me nervous too.” Cas groaned, tipping his head back and letting his eyes roll back into his head. “ _What?_ ”

“You sound like my _mother_!”

Dean grinned, pushing Cas lightly to the ground and standing over him. “Well, I _am_ your boyfriend. I’m _supposed_ to worry about you. I don’t like the idea of you out playing with guys that look like they could snap you in half with their pinkies!”

Cas laughed, grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling him down to the ground beside him. “Thank you for worrying. I think it’s sweet.”

“Yeah, you’d better.” Cas leaned over, kissing Dean’s cheek to shut up his grumbling. “But seriously, Cas, I think you should try goal. I mean, no offense, but I’ve seen you play, and if you want to start Varsity this year….” He trailed off and shrugged, knowing that Cas knew exactly what he meant.

He sighed. Dean was right, he wasn’t going to start this year. The team had been working out together for only a day now and he already knew that. But they didn’t actually have a goalie yet, since Kit had graduated last year. Turning to Dean, he rolled his eyes and scowled. “I’ll think about it.”

Cas was rewarded by Dean’s eyes lighting up, and that infectious million-watt grin he’d fallen in love with making a reappearance. Dean leaned over to kiss Cas again, but stopped himself at the last second, pulling back slightly to give Cas a worried look. “Cas, you know I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think you’d be brilliant at it, right? I really do think you can do this, I’m not trying to tell you you’re a horrible player or anything, because-”

“Because I am. I know that. Not _horrible_ , but not good, either. Certainly not as good as _you_. Now are we done talking about this, ‘cause I’d really like to kiss you now.” Dean smiled, nodding his agreement, and Cas leaned in to kiss him again.

This time, their kiss wasn’t interrupted by anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just felt like fluff. Fluff and cuteness. It felt like a good idea at the time.


	35. Week Six, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So...slight misunderstandings and cliffhangers abound.

Cas wandered into the lunch room, so lost in thought that he almost running into a teacher. “Sorry, sir. My bad.” Pushing into the room, he shook his head and walked quickly towards the kitchen. “Charlie!” The red-headed girl turned towards him, smile perking up when she saw who was addressing her. “Charlie I need to ask your advice.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement, and she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into the dish room to give them some privacy. “Hit me with it. What’s up?”

“Dean…” Cas trailed off, almost unsure of what to say. This hadn’t exactly been planned. “Dean called me his boyfriend.”

“Okay. So what’s up? Cause I gotta tell you, that doesn’t exactly sound like a problem to me.”

Cas moved his head back and forth awkwardly, trying to think of the best way to phrase this. “The date scheduled for the breakup is next Tuesday. Do you think he’s…God, I don’t know...do you think he might….” He trailed off, to see Charlie looking at him pityingly. “Well?”

Charlie snorted, shaking her head. “Cas my friend, Dean _did_ tell you that he’s been in love with you since September, right?” He nodded. “And you told him?” Another nod. “Right, and he called you his boyfriend. He’s so not going to break up with you it’s not even funny.” She paused, giving him a calculative once over. “You should be more concerned about how you’re going to ask him to the dance Saturday. Private, public, romantic gesture, awkwardly stuttered words, during sports, in history? These are important factors.”

The look on Cas’ face could best be described as harried; he raked a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm his nerves. “Uh, I don’t know. I was thinking private would be better. Doesn’t seem like the whole exhibitionism thing works for him.”

“You’re going to a school dance as a gay couple. There’s no way to avoid it.” The words were musing, not hurtful in the slightest. “But you’re right, private is always better with Dean. If I were you I’d do a romantic gesture, but it doesn’t have to be big and loud. You could, I don’t know, write it on a pie or something.”

“On a pie.”

Charlie threw her hands up, done with Cas’ shit. “Or just tell him, _whatever_. Just...figure something out, ok?”

“I’m so glad I asked you for help Charlie, you’ve been truly amazing.”

“Look, don’t get sassy with _me_ , Angel. I invented that shit.”

Cas grinned cheekily at Charlie, waiting for her to smile back at him before embracing her. “Thank you Charlie. You are a queen.”

“Yeah I am, don’t you forget it!” She flashed him a smile as she pranced out of the dish room. “Later, bitch!”

 

Cas was striding through the locker room when he saw Dean duck behind a row of lockers, followed closely by Alfie. Curious, he paused beside the wall to listen in on them.

“...In front of the whole school?” That was Alfie. He’d missed whatever it was Dean had said, but he’d probably pick it up, though. “Isn’t that a bit….”

“Awesome? I know.” Cas had to bite back his chuckle at the excited tone in Dean’s voice.

“I was going to say cruel, but, hey...whatever.” Cruel? What? “I mean, he doesn’t really... _like_ crowds.”

“It would be worse in private.”

“How could that even be possible?” Okay, seriously, _what_ were they talking about? “How could it be worse in private?”

“Well…” Dean’s voice was laced with hesitation. “ _I’m_ not terribly good in private. Being in public...I don’t know...encourages me, or something. It makes it easier to say stuff.”

Alfie hesitated before responding. “But _this_? Really? Besides, and don’t tell him I told you this, but-” Whatever Alfie wasn’t supposed to tell Cas was cut off by a large group of talkative freshman walking by at just the inopportune moment. They moved on just in time for Cas to hear Dean remark:

“Really? But he...I was...I had a plan. It was going to be one for the history books.”

“Just let him do this, ok?” Alfie’s voice was comforting.

Dean sighed, reluctance shining clearly through his response. “ _Fine_. I’ll talk to him about it. Try to get him to just get it over with. I thought that yesterday, when I said...what I said...that maybe he’d get the point and do it then, but whatever.”

Cas, getting the feeling the boys were about to remove themselves from their hiding spot, jumped back and walked quickly towards his own locker to change for lacrosse, head spinning as he tried to puzzle out what they were talking about.

 

“Hey, Cas!” Cas looked over to see Dean plop himself down beside Castiel. “I’ve been thinking.”

Cas grinned and leaned over to kiss Dean’s cheek, only to be shunned by Dean pulling back slightly. He frowned, glancing up to meet apologetic green eyes.

“Just...um...I’ve been thinking about our deal.” Cas stiffened, fearing what was coming next. “You know, the...um...the whole breakupthing ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this last night. But then I fell asleep. So.
> 
> BUT! WAIT! WEEK. SIX. THIS IS IT GUYS, WE'RE IN THE HOME STRETCH NOW! (I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do when it's over, but...hey, who is?)
> 
> There will be another (maybe two, depending on how good I am this afternoon) part posted later, since I didn't post yesterday. I'm trying to update every day this week, what with it being our last and all.
> 
> For the record, because I don't say it enough: thank you to everyone who reads this and leaves comments, it really does make my life better. So...yeah. Thanks.


	36. Week Six, Part One-and-a-Half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter, from Dean's perspective. That's literally it.

Dean looked around the locker room furtively as he grabbed Alfie’s arm. “Dude, I need to talk to you. Not here, just--follow me.” Releasing Alfie, he led him away from his locker towards the freshman rows. “In here.” He ducked into a small locker nook thing, turning to face Alfie. “Ok. So I’m going to ask Cas to the dance on Friday, and I was thinking I could maybe do it at lunch or something. What do you think?”

“In front of the whole school? Isn’t that a bit…”

“Awesome? I know.”

“I was going to say cruel, but, hey...whatever.” Dean’s face must have betrayed his hurt and confusion at the word ‘cruel’, for Alfie waved his hands and made an apologetic face. “I mean, he doesn’t really... _like_ crowds.”

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “It would be worse in private.”

“How could that even be possible?” Alfie raised an eyebrow in something close to accusation--he’d clearly been hanging out with Cas too much if he could imitate the boy that well. “How could it be worse in private?”

“Well…” The hair rub was a show of embarrassment this time. “ _I’m_ not terribly good in private. Being in public...I don’t know...encourages me, or something. It makes it easier to say stuff.”

Alfie hesitated a moment before responding. “But _this_? Really? Besides, and don’t tell him I told you this, but he’s really looking forward to asking you to the dance. Doesn’t have a plan yet, but he’s been talking about it for weeks.”

“Really? But he...I was...I had a plan. It was going to be one for the history books.” Dean didn’t pout often, but he did, he did it well, and right now it was working it’s full force on Alfie’s willpower.

“Just let him do this, ok?” Alfie reached out to touch Dean’s arm in a comforting gesture.

Dean sighed, shrugging off Alfie’s hand, pouting again. “ _Fine_. I’ll talk to him about it. Try to get him to just get it over with. I thought that yesterday, when I said...what I said...that maybe he’d get the point and do it then, but whatever.” There was a noise from outside the little nook the two boys were standing in, but Dean ignored it in favor of continuing to talk. “Did I tell you that I called him my boyfriend? It just kind of slipped out...I don’t know what happened. I don’t even know...does he…?” He trailed off his question, looking hopefully at Alfie.

“Ask him.”

 

Dean could see Cas sitting on the bleachers lacing up his shoes, jogging over to the dark-haired boy, he shouted: “Hey, Cas!” Grinning when Cas looked up at him, he sat down beside him to do up his own shoes. “I’ve been thinking.”

Stiffening, Dean pulled away when Cas grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek. Cas frowned, glancing up to meet his eyes. Dean did his best to look apologetic, he just had to get this out, and knew he wouldn’t be able to if Cas started kissing him.

He stumbled on his words, not really wanting to say them. “Just...um...I’ve been thinking about our deal.” He felt rather than saw Cas stiffen, clearly not wanting to hear what was coming next. “You know, the...um...the breakup?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There still may be another...who knows.
> 
> Comment please, my loves.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here. Enjoy, heathens.

Dean officially hated Coach Adams. He’d just sat down with Cas to talk to him when Coach had told them to start warming up. Naturally they’d been put in different groups for skill work and speed training, and Cas had chosen the moment immediately following the warm up to talk to Coach about being the goalie that year. So of _course_ Coach had to immediately take him to get the gear, and spent the rest of practice coaching him personally. _And_ held him an extra half hour after practice.

It was really fucking annoying.

So Dean had resolved to talk to Cas about the whole thing today. Except that now, standing in front of Cas in an empty classroom, he was quickly losing his nerve.

“Dean?” It was the third time Cas had said his name, and Dean was just staring back at him with an almost glazed-over expression. “You were thinking about us? About the breakup?” Cas’ voice was tight, almost like he was afraid of what Dean had to say.

Dean swallowed nervously. “Um...yeah. I just...it’s not _bad_ or anything, but...uh,” he swallowed again, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath. “Doyoustillwantmetobreakupwithyou?”

Cas blinked, a little stunned by the sudden flow of words. “What?”

“I said...I just wanted to know if you still wanted me to break up with you. Next Tuesday. On the eighteenth, as I’m sure you know, obviously, the date that I was supposed to break up with you, obviously. Because I don’t want to. But if you want me to, then I would, you know. Because...just, well, I would. But-”

“Dean.” Cas slapped a hand over Dean’s mouth, the other hand curling around his bicep. “Please stop talking.” Dean swallowed loudly, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down quickly, Cas’ eyes following the motion before flicking back up to meet Dean’s. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you before you understand it?” He smirked a little at the wide green eyes staring earnestly back at him. “And how can I say this in a way I know you’ll understand.” Plump lips pursed in a mockery of deep thought before he snapped his fingers and pointed at Dean. “Got it. If I take my hand off your mouth, do you promise not to say anything?” Dean nodded noiselessly, kissing Cas’ palm softly as the boy drew his hand back, making him smile. “Dean Robert Winchester, if you so much as _think_ about breaking up with me on Tuesday, or any day in the immediate afterwards--let’s be generous, say, the next five years at least--I’ll cut you out of my life completely: no talking, no tea, no homework. You might be thinking that this doesn’t sound so bad, but keep in mind that we’ll have to have a custody fight over Alfie, and I really don’t think he could handle that.”

Dean rolled his eyes, grinning at Cas’ little speech. “You’re such a dick. You could have said something like ‘I don’t want you to break up with me’, like a normal person. But no.”

“Does this mean you’ll go to the dance with me Saturday?” Cas’ cheeky grin was back in full force.

Leaning down to kiss Cas softly, Dean smiled into his mouth. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask me first.” Pulling away, Dean twirled around and left the classroom, shooting a shit-eating grin over his shoulder at Cas’ shouted: “I just did!”

 

Since Mr. and Mrs. Winchester had taken Sam to ‘some nerd thing’ in Ohio, Dean was staying on dorm in Benny’s room. The two were sitting in a completely full, fairly loud cafeteria eating their chicken tenders and sweet potato fries when someone touched Dean’s shoulder. He looked up into Cas’ bright blue eyes. “Hey Cas, what’s up?”

Without Dean’s noticing, a girl at the table next to them started at Cas’ appearance, and alerted her table to the sight. They all turned to look, staring for a moment before turning to other tables to spread the gossip.

 _Had_ Dean noticed, he would not have blamed them in the least. He did a quick once-over on Cas’ outfit, and found himself needing to swallow deeply several times: the boy was wearing a full tux, complete with a deep green boutonniere and tie; he’d clearly made an attempt at straightening his wild hair, which served only to make it crazier and more wonderful. One hand was held behind his back while the other fell casually at his side.

“Hello Dean.” His voice sounded deeper and more rumbly, as though donning the suit made him more mature somehow. “If you aren’t averse to my interrupting your dinner, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Dean found himself simply nodding, not sure entirely what to say.

He was entirely oblivious to the complete silence that had fallen over the room, not to mention the very blatant staring of the entire student body.

(Benny, however, was far from oblivious, and was doing a mental face-palm as he tried to figure out how to ask Andrea to the dance in a way even slightly close to this good.)

There was a collective gasp from all the students as Cas lifted his exposed hand to hold one of Dean’s and lowered himself to kneel on the ground.

“Dean Winchester, my boyfriend, I’ve been in love with you since August 17th, 2013, and I plan on staying in love with you for the foreseeable future. And I admit to having fucked up more times than I can count in the last five months, but I hereby swear that I am going to spend the rest of my life trying to make that up to you. So, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’d very much appreciate it if you would accompany me to the dance on Saturday night.”

The room descended back into silence as the school watched Dean watch Castiel, a slightly stunned expression on his face. Then Benny reached out and flicked Dean on the back of the neck.

Dean’s expression suddenly changed to one of delight. “Yeah, Cas, _god_ , I’d love to!” Pulling himself and Cas up into a standing position, he wrapped his hands on either side of Cas’ face and kissed him soundly. Pulling away, he murmured into Cas’ ear a quiet “Always, Cas. For you, always.”

The applause and catcalls that filled the room were deafening, even if some of the older teachers were a bit stunned at the noisy proposal that had invaded their dining hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was that good?
> 
> Phew. Three chapters today. I feel accomplished.


	38. Week Six, Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how my roommate woke me up this morning...so yeah. The rest just kind of happened.

Cas had been dreaming about Dean’s pie when someone knocked loudly on his door. It was the beginning of the ‘shave and a haircut’ rhythm, but with the ‘two bits’ left off. When nothing else happened, he ignored it, deciding it had been on someone else’s door.

“Do you want to build a snowman?” That was definitely Dean’s voice, and oh _hell_ no, he was not going to sing that song from that ice movie. “Or ride our bikes around the hall?” Apparently he _was_ going to sing that song from that ice movie. “I think some company is overdue, I’ve started talking to the pictures on the wall! Hang in there, Joan.” Cas chuckled, but let Dean keep singing. “It gets a little lonely, all these empty rooms, just watching the hours tick by--tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock.”

Stumbling out of bed and over to the door, Cas leaned against it and quietly yelled “Go away, Dean!”

“Wrong verse, idiot!” That sounded suspiciously like Benny. Dean’s laugh was muffled through the wood door, but still loud.

There was a beat of silence before another knock came, this time just three short raps. “Cas? Please, I know you’re in there; people are asking where you’ve been. They say ‘have courage’, and I’m trying to, I’m right out here for you, please let me in! We only have each other, it’s just you and me, what are we gonna do?” Cas pulled the door open to reveal Dean, with Benny standing just a little behind him, and the entire dorm with their doors open to observe the spectacle. Dean reached a hand out to brush along Cas’ face, a smile lighting his features. “Do you wanna build a snowman?” As he finished the song, all the guys started whooping and cheering.

Cas rolled his eyes. “There’s not even any snow on the ground. We can’t.”

“Aha!” Dean crowed the word, pushing past Cas and dragging him over to the window. “That’s where you are wrong, my dear fellow, for there’s more than a foot of snow on the ground, and we’re having a snow day!”

“You woke me up at, what? Six fifty? To tell me that we have a snow day?” Dean nodded happily, looking adorably like a five year old who’d ‘baked’ their mom a mud pie. “You’re lucky the other guys didn’t murder you. Besides, how do you even know that song?”

Dean blushed a little. “I had to take Sammy and his date to see it a couple weeks ago. Girl’s been obsessed ever since. Always playing the damn music. And don’t be all high and mighty! You knew the right response!” He waggled an accusing finger in Cas’ face, making the dark-haired boy laugh.

“Guilty as charged. Gabriel loves it.”

“So…” Dean looked at him slyly. “Snowman?”

Cas laughed again. “Let me get dressed first.”

Dean grinned happily, ducking down to give Cas a quick kiss. “Hurry though, wouldn’t want to finish before you even get out there.” As he stepped out the door, he turned to wink at Cas lasciviously. Cas had never dressed so quickly in his entire life.

 

The snowman was magnificent: seven feet tall with a large carrot nose, [duke blue scarf](http://www.solidbackgrounds.com/images/2560x1600/2560x1600-duke-blue-solid-color-background.jpg), large pebble buttons and facial features, arms with evergreen fingers, and holding a snow shovel.

Or, he was magnificent until Dean pushed his head off and dropped it on Cas. It was (probably) an accident, but retaliation was obviously required.

Scooping up a handful of snow, Cas molded a snowball and pegged Dean in the face.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Not quite.”

Dean stared open-mouthed at Cas’ joke, before a chuckle escaped his lips. “Oh, you’re going _down_.” Leaning over, Dean quickly molded an arsenal of snowballs, and began to chase Cas around the lawn, throwing his missiles after the boy’s retreating back. “Turn and fight, you coward!”

The last word was accompanied by a snowball smushing itself into Cas’ dark hair, making his head snap forward. With a sharp yelp, Cas fell face-first into the snow, not moving.

“Cas!” Dropping all his snowballs, Dean dashed forward, falling to his knees beside his boyfriend. He rolled him over, concerned eyes doing a quick once-over on the boy’s appearance. “Cas, buddy, I’m sorry. Man, you ok? Please tell me I didn’t kill you with a snowball.”

“Dean?” The question was only a small sound, but Dean jumped on it.

“Yeah, Cas?”

The beatific face molded itself into a small smile, just before Cas’ arms snapped up and grabbed Dean, shoving him down into the snow. Cas jumped up to straddle Dean’s waist, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “You’re very gullible.”

Dean gaped, laughing. “I was _worried_ about you, you dick!”

“I know. It was sweet.” Cas leaned back up, pulling Dean along with him, wrapping his legs around Dean’s back to help keep them from falling over. “You know what else would be sweet of you?” When Dean cocked his head to the side, obviously imitating him, Cas chuckled and sealed their lips together.

Dean held the kiss for a moment before pulling away. “You’re right, that’s pretty sweet.” Cas rolled his eyes, pulling Dean back in for another kiss, licking into the boys mouth and moaning when their tongues touched. Dean was reaching up to run his hands through Cas’ hair, hoping to make him make that noise again when his phone buzzed. He groaned.

“Don’t answer it.” Cas’ words were mumbled into his mouth, which was just _so_ \--it kept buzzing.

“Someone’s calling, it could be important.”

Cas sighed. “Fine. Answer it.” He pulled away to allow Dean to grab his phone, but as soon as the boy had the phone out of his pocket, he moved his ministrations to Dean’s neck, placing his lips on his pulse point and beginning work on a hickey.

“Hello?” Dean’s voice was pitched an octave higher than normal, but he was severely hoping whoever was on the other end wouldn’t notice.

“Could you two please stop defiling the lawn? Other people might want to use it too.”

“Jo?” Cas pulled away from Dean’s neck for a moment to roll his eyes at the boy. “What the hell, you can see us?” Cocking his head in thought for a moment, Cas shrugged and went back to marking Dean’s neck.

“ _Everyone_ can see you.” Dean could actually _hear_ Jo’s eyes rolling. “So please move.”

Dean sighed. “Fine. Bye, perv.” Flipping his phone shut, Dean tipped his head back for a moment, closing his eyes to enjoy Cas’ ministrations for a few more seconds. “Cas.” The words were a sigh. “Cas, we gotta move. Everyone can see us.” Cas pulled back and pouted at him.

“Do you really want me to stop?” Dean laughed, resting his hands in Cas’ hair--which was _damn_ soft, why didn’t he touch it more?

“No, but I’m also not into exhibitionism.” He leaned forward, resting his head on Cas’ shoulder so his lips were directly next to the boys ear. “But if you get up, we could continue this inside.”

Cas scrambled up out of his lap, holding a hand out to pull Dean up. “Then what are we waiting for?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Love? Whatever you want to write is fine really.
> 
> Also, if you want to follow me on tumblr, that would be lovely, my name is queen_of_hells_bells. If you already follow me, that's lovely too. Like, really lovely.
> 
> I still love you all, just in case you were wondering. You know, in case I don't say it enough.
> 
> Also, if you have any ideas on what I should write next, I'm always taking suggestions, so just drop those in the comments to if you want.


	39. Week Six, Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why? Because Valentine's Day. That's why.

Dean was still anxious about their relationship; Cas could tell by the way he would stiffen a little when they touched, and in the way Dean would look at him when he thought Cas couldn’t tell, as though afraid the other boy would disappear.

And it was perfectly understandable. Horribly depressing and annoying, but perfectly understandable. After all, Cas hadn’t exactly been… _kind_ to him this year. He just wished that Dean could see that he wasn’t going to let him go. Dean’s distance hurt especially bad today, what with it being Valentine’s day and all.

It wasn’t that Dean wasn’t celebrating the holiday, it was that he was celebrating it maybe a little too hard: he’d bought Cas a rose, three truffles, a small book on the history of Rome written entirely in Latin, and made him a card. His excuse was that he’d never had anyone to celebrate Valentine’s with, and had decided to go all out for his first time. Cas had a feeling the gifts were more of a ‘please don’t leave’ kind of thing, and it pissed him off to no end. He’d told Dean he was in love with him and that he had no plans to leave; hell, he’d never even _thought_ of another person the way he thought about Dean.

He wasn’t really angry with Dean, he knew he deserved it. But still.

So naturally he was going to prove it. Again. This time he had a really great plan.

 

“So, for Valentine’s Day-” T. Ted was cut off by a sudden outcry of booing amongst the boys. Eventually it trailed off into laughter and high-fiving, and T. Ted was able to get them to shut up again. “Anyway, since it’s Valentine’s Day, here in boy’s collection we’re having a special community sharing. So if you want to….” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the doors and shrugging.

Neil and Art pushed the doors open, revealing Cas and Jo, the latter carrying both a chair and a guitar-- _his_ guitar. Dean sat bolt upright in his chair, watching as they walked sedately into the room, straight to the front, and Jo plopped down on the chair, doing some minute tunings to his guitar.

The room was completely silent.

Looking up at Cas--who looked strangely nervous, _why did he look nervous???_ \--Jo’s lips quirked into a grin, and she pulled her fingers across the strings.

The tune sounded familiar, though distant, until Cas started to sing.

“Oh his eyes, his eyes, make the stars look like they’re not shining.”  Dean’s mouth fell open when Cas turned to look right at him, causing the whole room full of guys to turn towards him as well. “Oh his hair, his hair falls perfectly without him trying. He’s so beautiful, and I tell him everyday.”

Across the room, Alfie picked up the tune, singing along with his friend, small voice carrying until Dean’s friends got in on it as well. “I know, I know, when I compliment him, he won’t believe me. And it’s so, it’s so sad to think that he don’t see what I see. But every time he asks me do I look ok, you know I say,” Someone started clapping softly, other boys picking up the rhythm as it went along. Dean just stared at Cas, spellbound, meeting the other boy’s gaze without blinking.

Suddenly Cas’ face broke into a grin as he began to sway with the music. “When I see your face, there’s not a thing that I would change, ‘cause you’re amazing, just the way you are. And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for awhile. ‘Cause boy you’re amazing, just the way you are.” Pointing to the groups of boys around him, Cas started the chorus again, dropping out to let the school serenade them as he moved towards Dean.

Dean stood, jumping over the bench in front of him to get closer to Cas. They met in the middle of the aisle and just stood and stared at each other while the boys finished the chorus. “‘Cause boy you’re amazing, just the way you are.” Cas finished the song with the rest of his impromptu chorus, trailing off as he stepped even closer to Dean. “Happy Valentine’s day.” The laugh Dean was trying to stifle slipped out, turning into a half-laugh half-sob-thing on the way up. Cas leaned forward, pulling Dean into a tight hug. “Please stay with me forever.”

“Okay.”

 

They had to go to class the rest of the day, had sports afterward, and then Dean had to go home, but it didn’t matter that they’d barely seen each other.

Because it was quite literally the best Valentine’s Day either of them had ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But guys, this is literally a thing that happened at school today. It was adorable and wonderful so naturally I had to put it in the story.
> 
> Comments, please! Love, hate, Valentines, thoughts; I'll take it all.
> 
> And, as always, eternal love to all of you, because I really do love you all like you're my own.
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day!


	40. Week Six, Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the non-dance.

Cas rolled over blearily, snuggling into the warmth beside him. “Dude, if you drool on me I’ll give you a Mississippi River cut.”

Dean. That was Dean’s voice. Cas was sleeping with Dean. _Why was Cas sleeping with Dean? And what the hell was a_ \-- “A what?”

Dean chuckled lightly, the reverberations in his chest feeling nice on Cas’ cheek. “It’ll be deep, it’ll be long, and the blood’ll never stop flowing.” Cas looked up at him, the sleep in his eyes keeping him from clearly seeing Dean’s amused expression.

“That’s sick.” They were silent for a moment, Dean running a hand lightly through Cas’ hair, Cas nuzzling his head into Dean’s warm chest. “So...um, not that this isn’t lovely or anything, but um…”

Dean’s hand pulled away, looping around to tilt Cas’ head up to look at him. “You don’t remember what happened last night?” When Cas shook his head, Dean chuckled again. “Damn, I guess you really _did_ drink a little too much. I thought you might have....Well, long story short: we didn’t go to the dance.”

“Did we….” Cas trailed off, question implicit in his voice.

“No. Believe it or not, I don’t take advantage of people who are drunk. Even when they beg me for it.” It was this sentence that brought Cas’ ringing headache to the forefront of his attention. “Sorry to disappoint, but no; you did not get any tail last night. Aleve?”

Leaning over, Dean grabbed a small pill bottle and a glass of water off his bedside table, holding them out to Cas and grinning. Cas just rolled his eyes, accepting them gratefully.

“I guess I should avoid talking for a while, huh?” The words were practically shouted in Cas’ ear, making him groan and roll away from his tormentor, hiding his head under a pillow. “Hmph. Well, if that’s how you’re going to be about it, I’m gonna go shower. Maybe make myself some breakfast. Who knows.”

There was a rustle of blankets, then a sudden loss of warmth as Dean slipped out from under the covers and padded out of the room. It seemed that he’d barely left when Cas heard the loud noise of water rushing up through pipes and out of a showerhead. Yawning, he attempted to bury himself deeper into his pillows and fell back asleep.

 

He awoke again an indeterminate amount of time later to a multitude of smells. Groaning, he sat slowly up to see Dean grinning devilishly at him from the end of the bed. “Morning sunshine.” Dean’s hair was still a little wet from his shower, sticking up at weird angles, and he smelled divine: like cinnamon and something sweeter...coconut? And of course, the scent of English Breakfast Tea clung to him like a second skin. “Made you breakfast. Pancakes, bacon, coffee, maple syrup. Lot’s of grease and sweet shit. You’ll love it.” He shoved the tray at Cas, who caught the edge and lowered it slowly to his lap, looking up in time to see Dean digging into a slice of pie.

“I want pie.”

“Sorry. This is the last slice, and it’s not remotely close to being good hangover food.” Cas raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “Hey, be glad I made you breakfast at all. I could have just left you here to die or something.”

Swallowing a heavenly piece of pancake, Cas rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t die from having a hangover. Not directly, anyway. I might die from choking on my vomit, but the actual hangover won’t kill me.”

Dean shrugged. “Wouldn’t know. Never had a hangover.” Seeing Cas’ disbelieving expression, Dean shrugged again. “Haven’t had time to drink.”

Cas made a vague sweeping motion with his hand in Dean’s general direction. “Take my advice and don’t. It never ends well.” Dean chuckled, stowing away his empty plate on the floor. “How’d you eat that that fast?”

“Cas, the better question is how did you eat _that_ that fast.” Cas looked down at his plate in confusion to see that his plate was, indeed nearly empty. He must have looked just as confused as he felt because Dean laughed again, the sound harsh--though not as bad as before--on his hangover-sore ears. “Alright, upsie-daisies, time for a shower.”

“Upsie-daisies?”

“Yes. Upsie-daisies. Now snap too. I have a plan for today that involves you getting out of the shower, and for that to happen, you have to actually get in the shower. So.” He stood, yanking the blankets off the bed. The dishes tray and dishes went flying. “Good thing all that was plastic, or I’d have a huge mess on my hands.” The statement was more observational than anything else, and made Cas laugh.

Dean chuckled and pulled Cas out of bed, practically shoving him out of the room. “Second door on the left. Towels on the rack. Just use whatever’s in there. I’ll lay some things out for you to wear, come find me downstairs, ok?”

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Seriously?”

Dean grinned at him, the devilish one from before. “Yeah. Seriously.”

“A pie? And Doctor Who? _That’s_ your big plan for the day?”

“Best way to get over a hangover.”

“You said you’d never even drank!”

“No…but I have hung out with a lot of hungover people in my day. You pick these things up as you go along.” Dean shrugged, already pulling out the materials they’d need to make a strawberry pie. “Don’t worry, it’ll be great. If you don’t like Who, we can watch Star Trek.”

“I’ve seen Star Trek.” Dean raised a disbelieving eyebrow, causing Cas to scoff at his disbelief. “It had those two hot guys in it.”

Dean full on laughed, that head-dropping, full-body laugh that had caught Cas’ attention the day this whole thing had started. His mind preened at having finally caused it. “Oh, Cas. You’ve seen those new movies. Not the originals. It’s not the same, man.”

Cas pouted, making Dean laugh even harder, before putting down the sugar and pulling Cas in for a quick kiss. “Don’t worry, I still love you.”

Grinning, Cas tugged on Dean’s hips until they were kissing again. “I love you too. Even if you’re a giant nerd.”

“A giant nerd who feeds you pie, and don’t you forget it.”

Cas laughed, releasing Dena so the boy could teach him how to make a strawberry pie.

It took a bit longer than it should have, and loss of strawberries made the pie significantly smaller than expected, but it was still delicious.

 

When Mary, John, and Sam got home from Ohio that afternoon, Doctor Who was running quietly on Dean’s computer, there was an empty pie tin on the coffee table, and Dean and Cas were curled up on the floor, in the middle of an extensive pillow nest they’d built. The two boys were completely tangled up in each other: legs intertwined, chests pressed up against one another as they held each other tightly.

And when they woke the boys to send them off to bed, there wasn’t even a flush of embarrassment on either of their cheeks, just complete happiness and contentment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone give a flying fuck what happened last night, I'm not writing it it's own fucking chapter. So, cliffnotes: Cas came over to get ready for the dance, they ended up doing shots and eating pie instead. Except that Cas was the only one doing shots because Dean doesn't drink. They didn't go to the dance.   
> That's what happened.
> 
> So I posted this before midnight! That was the goal! Yay me!
> 
> Comments, love, hate, thoughts, I'll take it all. Love to all of you for sticking with me this long, and reminder that we literally have two days left before this shitfest ends. Here's hoping it was worth it!


	41. Week Six, Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not Dean and Cas at all. Really. Well, they're mentioned.

Aaron was having a rough Monday. Well, he’d been having a rough sixish weeks. There’d been about a week in the middle there that hadn’t seemed so bad, but then it had all gone back to shit. He was moody, depressed, getting high _way_ too often, and he’d even begun hanging out with an… _unsavory_ crowd.

And the case of his teenage angst was sitting over there at the nerd table in all their glory: Dean and Castiel. Castiel and Dean. _Castiel_ and Dean. Not _Aaron_ and Dean, _Castiel_ and Dean.

That stupid prick was the cause of all Aaron’s problems. For crying out loud, he’d never been gay before. Before, he’d been so straight he’d made rainbows wither and die! So of _course_ he had to turn gay for the love of Aaron’s life. Because the universe hated Aaron Bass.

He was staring moodily in the direction of the nerd table when someone snapped a finger in his face. “Aaron. Aaron, focus.” He looked around to see Meg roll her eyes at him. “If you don’t pay attention we can’t help you.”

Daphne Allan nodded sagely, making Aaron snort. How the hell was _she_ qualified to be the expert on this shit? She’d been pining after Castiel for years, and he’d never even noticed her. But apparently she was determined to get him now, so who was Aaron to judge?

The two of them had been thrown together by their mutual hatred of the Castiel and Dean relationship, wanting nothing more than to break it up for their own personal gain without any real knowledge of how to actually go about doing so. So they’d contacted the Demons, an ‘elite’ (bitchy) group who would do anything you wanted—for a price.

Aaron and Daphne’s Demon was Crowley, an English exchange student who apparently would like nothing better than to ruin Castiel’s life. Personal vendetta of some kind, it seemed.

They’d originally been assigned to Alistair, but after he was suspended, he’d been kicked out of active duty and into ‘re-education’; whatever that meant.

(Aaron was glad about being rid of Alistair, the guy’d been creepy as fuck and Aaron’d never felt comfortable around him. He didn’t like Crowley by any stretch of the imagination, but he felt… _safer_ , somehow, around this kid.)

Suddenly Meg’s fingers were back in his face, dragging him back to focus, and forcing him to stare at Crowley’s disapproving face. Sighing, he shot one last glimpse at the happy couple before turning his full attention to Crowley and his plan.

After all, he’d have plenty of time to see Dean’s happy face after the two of them became a couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone want to say anything at all?
> 
> Even if you don't, remember that I still love you. And I did promise an ending. Tomorrow. Maybe the day after. Depends how efficient I end up being. Who knows?


	42. February 18: Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first part of the three part saga that is February the Eighteenth.

**7:45 AM**

Cas had just walked into the locker room to wait for Dean when a snow-covered figure shoved the door open opposite him. The figure stumbled into the worm locker room, shaking their arms to relieve themselves of snow. “Castiel?”

Oh. It was Daphne Allan. Cas sighed mentally when she said his name, much the same way he’d been doing pretty much his entire life. “Good morning, Daphne. How’d you get so snowy?” He was striving for pleasant and polite yet uninterested.

She approached him, pouting in a way she probably thought was adorable. “Slipped on some ice, fell in the snow.” Padding lightly up the two steps to the level just below Cas, she smiled up at him. “Mm, is that tea you’ve got there?”

“Um…”

“Mind if I have some?”

“Well…”

“Ugh, thanks Castiel, you’re the best.” Before Cas could react, she reached out and took Dean’s thermos out of his hand, unscrewing the lid and taking a deep, long breath, just soaking up the smell. Sighing, she took a swig, nose wrinkling up a little at the taste. “What is it?”

Cas mentally rolled his eyes at the oblivious girl. “A mix. Earl Grey Crème, Jade Mint, and Wild Youthberry Blossom.” He grinned at Daphne’s expression. “Just trying to get Dean to branch out.” Her face soured at the mention of his boyfriend, but she didn’t really say anything, just took another swig from the blue mug.

The door slammed open again.

 

Dean pushed open the door to the locker room just in time to see Daphne Allan take a swig out of his tea thermos. The door hit the wall with a loud bang before Dean could catch up, causing Cas to look up crazily, expression turning almost freaked out when he saw it was Dean.

“Dean!” Cas reached out to blindly take the mug from the girl beside him, never taking his eyes off Dean. “Hi!”

Simply raising an eyebrow at the boy’s antics, Dean huffed out an amused breath. “Please, don’t stop… _fraternizing_ just because I’m here.” He smirked a little at Cas’ aghast expression, winking at the boy before turning to walk to his locker.

It was barely a moment before Cas was at his side, tea firmly in hand, Daphne looking after him in amazement from the top of the stairs.

“Good morning, Dean. This is for you.” Cas held the tea out in front of him, practically thrusting it into Dean’s hand.

Dean smiled, throwing a quick wink in Daphne’s direction before kissing Cas’ cheek and accepting the thermos. “Thanks, babe.”

 

**9:15 AM**

“Aaron? You ok, man?” Aaron looked up at Dean from where he was sitting at his desk, crying. He sniffled again, blinking owlishly at Dean. “Seriously man, who died?” His tone was joking, but Aaron took the suggestion at face value; he _had_ always been pretty good at lying.

“My grandfather. Yesterday.” He almost bit back his words when he saw how upset Dean looked for him, but the victory of having the attention of this perfect being focused totally on him was addicting, so he tacked on a bit more crying for effect.

Dean sat down heavily beside the boy, slinging an arm over his shoulder. “Man…that sucks. I lost mine about a year ago, so I get what you’re feeling. Look…you just…let it out, ok? Tell me about it, or cry or something. Whatever you gotta do, I’m right here.”

Well this was pretty much going better than Aaron could have planned. Sniffling again, he looked up at Dean with what he hoped were puppy-dog eyes. “Would it…do you think it would be…ok…for me to hug you? Is that ok?”

“Yeah.” Sure Dean had sounded almost uncertain of his decision, but he _had_ said yes, hadn’t he? So Aaron turned happily (though with plenty of sniffles to keep the illusion) and wrapped both arms around Dean’s waist, snuggling his face into Dean’s chest. “You gonna be ok, man?” Aaron nodded slowly, keeping his face buried in the warmth of Dean. “Ok. Just let me know when you’re good.”

Aaron tightened his arms a little bit to signal that that moment wasn’t quite yet, which Dean seemed to understand, since he sighed, reached into his backpack, and pulled out a book. Holding the book with one hand, he wrapped his other arm around Aaron’s shoulders in a comforting gesture.

They must have sat there for at least ten minutes, Aaron snuggled happily into Dean’s chest while still sniffling and crying for effect (he’d really have to get the boy a new shirt when all this was over), and Dean reading, when someone coughed lightly from the doorway.

“Cas.” Dean’s word was slightly breathless, annoying Aaron to no end.

“Oh,” From what Aaron could see, Cas was more amused by the situation than anything, leaning easily on the doorstep as he surveyed the two boys. “Don’t stop fraternizing on my account.”

Dean coughed in something that sounded like laughter, and Aaron looked up to catch a smile on the boy’s features. He practically growled. “You’re funny, Cas, you know that?” The two boys shared a look, one that spoke volumes to anyone looking without the veil of jealousy.  “Aaron and I were just…well, his…” Dean looked down at Aaron, who nodded in a ‘if you must’ sort of way. “Well, Aaron’s grandfather just died, so I was comforting him.”

Cas’ brow furrowed in second-hand sadness, and he made his way quickly to Aaron’s other side, plopping down in the seat beside him. “Well, if you two don’t mind, can I join in the comforting?”

“Please do.” The words were forced, though he tried to cover it with sniffles and sadness. Smiling sadly, Cas placed his arm over Aaron’s shoulder, latching his hand onto Dean’s neck and rubbing softly.

Over the back of the ‘grieving’ boy, Dean and Cas shared a small smile, just happy to be there together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Comments? Love? Hate? Kudos (...or mental kudos, whatever...)? I take it all.
> 
> There will be three parts. Promise. Which means we could either be done tomorrow or on Thursday. Who knows?


	43. February 18: Mid-Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second part of Tuesday. Obviously.

“Cas,” Daphne ducked behind a shelf when she heard the name of her--well, of the person who _should_ be her boyfriend; who instead chose to get cozy with Dean Winchester. “Cas, really, I’ve got to study for this test; I can’t afford to fail.”

“You _are_ studying.” She practically melted at the sound of that deep, rumbly voice. _Like thunder_ , she thought to herself, completely disregarding the sappiness of the sentiment. Castiel’s voice had always been rather perfect; if only it weren’t being wasted on the wrong person. “And you’re not going to fail. You’re perfect.” _Okay, that was enough of_ that.

Daphne pushed off the bookshelf and out of the row to stand before the pair of boys. “Castiel, I was--oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” She forced surprise into her voice when she ‘found’ two boys instead of one, shifting from foot to foot anxiously. Cas sighed.

“No, no, I...uh...what did you need Daphne?” If his smile seemed a little forced, she chose to ignore it, instead focusing on the fact that he was smiling at her.

She flashed a gloriously happy smile at him. “I was just wondering if maybe you could help me with my French translations?”

“The poems?” She nodded, and he tilted his head just a little to the side, looking a bit like a puppy. It was cute. Then he shrugged, patting the seat beside him. “Ok.”

A little annoyed that he wasn’t going to move away from the Winchester to help her, she moved into the seat anyway, getting as close to Castiel as she could without being too obvious about it. Pulling her French notebook from her backpack, she slipped out the sheet with the three poems on it and slid it gently in front of the boy. “I just have a little trouble understanding words when I read them. Do you think you could...maybe...god this is embarrassing...but do you think maybe...read them to me?” She looked up at him through her lashes, biting her lip in a bid to look adorable.

There was a small sound from Castiel’s other side, quickly morphing into a soft ‘ooph’ of amused pain. Daphne leaned over Castiel to glare at Dean, who was struggling to rearrange his features into a mask of focus.

 

 _...Read them to me._ Jesus, could the girl be any more obvious with her moves? _“Oh Castiel, pretty pretty please read me romantic poems in French?” Insert fluttering eyelashes and pouty face here._ He’d have thought she could at least show a little restraint when Dean was sitting right here, but apparently that was above her measly intellect.

He really hadn’t meant to laugh, but it had just been so _obvious_ a move that it was painful. Going back to his Physics studying, he tried to block out everything coming from beside him. But then: “Je n'ai pas honte de dire ou admettre que c'est vrai.” Cas’ voice seemed even more gravelly than normal, making Dean lose complete control over his ability to focus. His mind seemed hardwired on ‘Cas’. “Je suis un toxicomane mais d'une manière spéciale, Vous voyez, mon cœur veut juste vous.”

Dean was struggling to remember what the Cas had told him yesterday about what the words meant. All he could remember was that the last few words meant something like ‘my heart wants you’. Sneaking a quick glance over at his boyfriend, his eyes focused in quickly on how close Daphne was sitting to him, leaning fully into his space as he spoke, her eyes closed as she listened to his voice.

Which was probably why she didn’t notice that Cas wasn’t reading to her. He was reading to Dean, the same way he’d done Saturday night. Dean ducked his head down a little bit, feeling a blush creep it’s way up his cheeks; rubbing a hand over the back of his neck when Cas grinned at him.

“Votre absence rend mon coeur que vous voulez tu, et mon corps aspire à votre contact. L'énergie qui coule dans mes veines, me donne envie de vous tellement.” Cas paused to pull in a deep breath, and Daphne snapped her eyes open, staring intently at Cas’ cheek.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

Cas started a little bit, looking back to her slowly and smiling. “Thanks. You keepin’ up so far?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Dean rolled his eyes, standing as he gathered his things. Cas turned to him, his eyes a mixture of hurt, denial, and ‘please god don’t leave me here with her’. It made Dean chuckle before leaning down to give Cas a good long kiss. “Je vais vous tuer pour ça plus tard,” Was whispered in his ear before he could pull away.

“Itane vero?” He layered the disbelief into his voice thickly, mouth quirking up in amusement. “Et tu securus?”

Cas huffed, clearly not having been serious at all, then let Dean pull away. He went reluctantly this time; the warm air had felt nice against Dean’s ear. “Aimez-vous. Rendez-vous plus tard?”

“Nimirum. Amor quoque vos.”

  
Cas watched Dean leave the library, gazing after him with what he was sure Gabriel would call a ‘love-struck expression’. Sighing happily, he turned back to Daphne, who looked positively sour until she realized Cas was looking at her. Then her features composed themselves back into what was probably supposed to be a smile. “So. Want to continue?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> French/Latin translations:  
> "I'm not ashamed to say or admit that it's true."  
> "I'm an addict, but in a special way, You see, my heart just wants you."  
> "Your absence makes my heart want you, and my body craves your touch. The energy flowing through my veins, makes me want you so much."  
> "I'm going to kill you for this later."  
> "Really?"  
> "You sure?"  
> "I love you. See you later?"  
> "Of course. Love you too."
> 
> So, tell me what you think of this second section. Next one's the last, so if you want to tell me what you think should happen (though I can't guarantee it'll actually happen) just stick that in the comments too.
> 
> And, as always: eternal love and happiness to everyone who's followed me thus far. You are clearly amazing people and are all going to heaven. Unless you WANT to go to hell. In which case more power to you, man.


	44. February 18: Lunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of Tuesday. This is it, guys. The last real chapter.

Dean just wasn’t getting it. Aaron and Daphne had been trying to get the two into different situations all day, situations that would make it clear to the couple what they were missing out on. At least, that was Daphne’s plan; Aaron was planning on playing the ‘sympathetic ear’ card after Castiel broke Dean’s heart. Except that the two idiots weren’t getting it, so clearly Aaron needed to step up his game.

There were only five hours left in the school day--including sports--and three of them would be spent in classes he didn’t have with Dean. If Aaron was going to make a move, it would have to be now.

A crucial flaw in this plan came with the fact that ‘now’ was lunch, and that Dean was sitting with Castiel.

Sighing, Aaron shoved himself up out of his seat, fastidiously ignoring Daphne’s stifled sound of protest, and walked steadily to Dean’s table, tossing his apple from hand to hand as he did so. He reached the table just as Castiel got up, and the two boys were suddenly face to face.

“Um...hey.” Aaron should _not_ be blushing in the face of the popular boy: he was trying to steal his boyfriend for god’s sake!

Castiel grinned, plucking Aaron’s apple right out of the air before it could fall back to his hand. “Hi Aaron. Sit down, won’t you?” The boy gestured gracefully to his own recently vacated seat. “I’ll pull up another when I come back. You want another apple?”  
Aaron’s head spun a little following the quick conversation, but figured it was probably safe to nod. He felt more secure in his decision when Castiel clapped his shoulder, practically shoving him down into the seat and sauntered away.

He watched Dean watching Cas’ graceful exit, waiting patiently for the attractive boy to look back at him. Which he did. Eventually.

“Jesus, Winchester, act a little _more_ lovestruck, why don’t you?”

“Bit me, Jo.”

“I believe that position’s been filled actually. On both ends.” The last part of the blonde girl’s words were more observational than anything else, as she shared a quick glance with the scruffy-looking boy sitting next to her. They both grinned. “So, yeah. Sorry, but I can’t.”

The table lapsed back into silence for a moment as attention was turned to food, before Dean turned suddenly to Aaron. “Aaron, my man, you doing ok?”

Aaron swallowed almost nervously, managing to somehow make it look totally normal. “I’m...I’m fine. How are you? I meant to ask earlier, but...you know.” He finished it with a shrug and an awkward mouth twitch. “How’s things with Castiel? You two seem happy together.”

“Things are great, actually, I really couldn’t be much happier.” That far-away look that Jo had called ‘lovestruck’ momentarily brightened Dean’s eyes again, but he blinked it away to focus back on Aaron. “How about you? Anything going on in the love department?”

“Ha...well...there’s this one guy, but I don’t think...I don’t think he likes me back.” His words were quiet, and he looked anywhere but at Dean, which in this case happened to be right at Castiel, as the boy walked steadily back to their table, stopping at practically every table to talk with friends.

He missed the looks that everyone at the table shot each other, some calculating, others amused, Dean shushing them all with a roll of his eyes.

“Well,” Aaron looked back to Dean with an interested look on his face. “I guess I was wrong, dude, cause you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with Daphne Allan lately, and I thought you two….”

“ _God_ no.” His vehement protest at the insinuation had the table laughing. He joined in tentatively, though the horrified expression never left his face. “Even if... _no. But_ , even if, she likes someone else.”

Charlie turned on him, ears all abuzz for the gossip. “Who?”

“Uh…” Aaron floundered under the girl’s laser-like gaze before glancing quickly at Dean. “Not um...you know, not _him_ , but…”

“Ah.” Charlie seemed utterly enlightened by Aaron’s awkward-ass sentence, as did everyone else at the table.

Dean’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he turned in his seat to watch Castiel. A knot of sudden anger burst in Aaron’s chest, giving him the sudden need to keep talking, to keep Dean’s attention on him. “Yeah...she seems to think she’s making progress. I think she’s trying to break you guys up or something.” Dean turned violently back to Aaron, that poisonous gaze uncomfortable on his skin. “I mean...I just...I think.”

“What do you think?” Aaron jumped at the sound of Cas’ voice coming from where the boy had pulled a chair up to the corner of the table next to Dean. He looked at Aaron with interest, shoving an apple across the table towards him.

“Oh, Aaron thinks that Daphne is trying to break us up so she can hook up with you.” Dean’s words were thrown out casually enough, but there was a clear dangerous undertone.

“Does he?” Castiel’s words, as well, were pleasant and light, but there was that same undercurrent of danger. “And have you told him yet what we think?”

Aaron felt a sudden rumbling of discomfort as the two boys conversed with each other. “No, babe, I hadn’t gotten there yet. I was thinking I’d wait until you got back.”

“Thanks, love, that was sweet of you.”

“It’s really creepy when you do that, you know?” Kevin’s words were like a douse of ice water of Dean and Castiel’s heads. They both turned to him and grinned, Dean throwing in a wink for good measure. “I suppose that was the idea, wasn’t it?” Dean’s little smirk answered that question well enough.

Slowly, as though they’d forgotten he was there, Dean and Castiel turned back to Aaron. “If you could just call Daphne over here, that would be lovely.” The steely expression in Cas’ eyes made it clear this was not a refusable request. Swallowing, he raised a hand and beckoned to Daphne, who came practically running over. Castiel grinned up at her, the smile never quite reaching his eyes. “Daphne. Please, sit down.”

Daphne sat slowly, something akin to fear raising in her eyes as she heard the poison in Castiel’s words. Once she was seated, Dean turned his seat around so he could sit next to his boyfriend and the two could stare comfortably at Aaron and Daphne. They exchanged a look, some kind of secret language transpiring between them that ended in Dean being elected the first one to speak.

“We’d like you two to do us a favor. It’s very simple, won’t require much effort at all. Promise. Do you think you can agree to that?” They nodded hesitantly, Aaron’s motions growing more enthusiastic when he saw the smile it garnered on Dean’s face. “Good! Yes. Here’s the deal: we--Cas and I--we want you to leave us alone.” Daphne and Aaron froze, mouths just a little agape as they stared at the couple smiling saccharine-sweet, shit-eating grins at them. “Stop trying to break us up, stop obsessing, just let us be, ok?”

“No!” Unsurprisingly--to Aaron, at least--it was Daphne who voiced an exception. “No. Castiel should be with _me_. He’s not... _gay_ , he’s not _bi_ , he’s just _straight_! And he’s...he’s...I’m...I’m in _love_ him!”

Castiel shook his head kindly, almost patronizingly. “No, Daphne, you’re not. You’re in love with the idea of me, not the real me.”

“But he’s... _poor_ , Castiel...he _works_! In a _diner_.” She said the words as though they were hearsay.

You could almost hear the jaws of everyone at the table clench; could feel the anger emanating off them. Charlie was the first to speak. “Daphne, I’ve never been much one for violence, but Jo is, she _really_ is. She has a knife collection, and she knows how to use it. But so help me, if you _ever_ say anything like that again, I will shove her aside and tear you limb from limb myself.”

Daphne looked, offense clearly written on her face, at Castiel, whose jaw just tightened even more. “I think you two should leave now.” They opened their mouths to protest but were stopped by the combination of a whole table’s worth of bitchfaces and by Castiel speaking again. “And when I say leave, I mean ‘don’t ever speak to us again’. Thank you.” Castiel was giving them a practiced politician’s smile: sugar-sweet and vaguely threatening.

The two stood, slowly at first and then more quickly once they realized how angry everyone looked, only to be stopped by Dean’s quiet voice calling after them. “And please, give our thanks to Meg. Tell her this exactly: ‘thanks for the heads up about the homewreckers’. It was a rather helpful tip.” Daphne’s mouth fell open once again in amazement, turning to an expression of anger when Dean just winked at her. “What’s the expression? Don’t trust a Demon?” He grinned cheekily at her, and she turned, flouncing away.

Aaron, while pissed at Meg and her betrayal, couldn’t help but be impressed by the way Dean had pissed off Daphne so easily.

The last thing he saw before turning away from Meg’s blush at Dean’s thanks was a quick kiss between the couple. They looked...happy. Which he should probably be pissed off about, but he just...wasn’t.

  
But if Aaron was a little more bruised and banged up from lacrosse practice than pretty much anyone else on the team, that was _certainly_ none of Castiel’s influence. Or Dean’s. At all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last real chapter. Well. There's another one after this, as you can see, but it's more of an epilogue.


	45. Timestamp: Class of 2015's 5-year Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An epilogue.

Daphne Allan was the first one to arrive, dragging her rich fiancé, Peter Barlow, on her arm. She’s been working as a yoga instructor for about a year now, jumping from one boyfriend to another, all rich and all looking pretty much exactly the same: crazy dark hair and shocking blue eyes. If anyone at the reunion noticed, they didn’t say anything. Probably because she’s just as crazy now as she was then, she’s just slightly better at hiding it.

Kevin Tran came next, stag, since his girlfriend of nearly three years now (Channing Farrow) is at home sick with the flu. He’d wanted to stay with her, but she’d practically kicked him out of the house, said he needed a night off from watching her sit around and blow her nose. He must have shown the entire class the ring he picked out for her. He’s going to propose next week, the week after she finishes her first ever internship. He ended up practicing on Charlie, with Dean coaching him from the sidelines.

Charlie Bradbury and her girlfriend Dorothy Baum followed Kevin in, since Charlie had meant to be early to help set up music and lights. They’d gotten distracted by...well, simply by the facts that they were Charlie and Dorothy. Charlie was in her last year of a Master's degree in Computer Sciences , Dorothy was a cop. The two had met when Charlie was bored and had pushed the 'call a cop' button to see how long it would take them to respond. Eventually it became a ritual for the two of them, before Charlie finally just manned up and asked her out.

Lucifer Novak and Anna Milton were the next couple to come through the door. Cas had been overjoyed when the two had started dating Senior year. He'd always thought they'd be a good match, and look he was right. They'd been engaged since the summer after graduation, a fact they were keeping well-hidden from their respective parents, but they planned to make the announcement in the next week or so.

Becky Rosen came, though she was adamantly silent on the whereabouts of her still-boyfriend Chuck Shurley. Popular theory amongst the class of 2015 was that he was in training to become a Buddhist monk.

Which was, ironically, exactly what Garth Fitzgerald was doing. He hadn't even meant to. He'd been hiking in Tibet when he'd accidentally stumbled across a monastery, and up one attending some meditations, found he very much enjoyed the life. Shockingly, he'd even given up on his long-time search for a new Mr. Fizzles.

Adam and Alfie came together, not as a couple--though the Dean and Castiel-type stares they shared showed this to be a short-lived idea--but simply as roommates. Having both gone to the same college, they now both lived in the same town where they both had similar low-paying jobs: Aaron teaching music at the local high school, and Alfie working two jobs at the bookstore and the diner. They seemed happy together, even if they weren't actually together.

Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak came in together, having road-tripped all the way from California where they both worked: Cas as an up-and-coming translator and language professor at UCLA, and Dean as the baker at Spago. Desserts there never sold for less than $15, and had never been more popular. In the four years he'd been working there, he'd already been written up six times, in five different publications, mostly because he'd never had any formal training. Dean hadn’t wanted to come that night, but Cas had forced him into nice clothes and bribed him with sex, so they’d loaded up the Impala and taken the nice long drive from California to Kansas just for this. And if the pair looked especially happy that night, one would only have to look at the simple platinum band Dean had slipped onto Cas' hand earlier that day to figure out why.

Jo Harvelle and Benny Lafitte never showed, as they were far too busy road-tripping the world. But they spent a video message to say hello and to congratulate Dean and Cas, because of course Dean had consulted his three (don’t be forgetting about Charlie) best friends before buying anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, guys, it's over. It's been a hell of a ride.
> 
> Thanks to my readers for taking this journey with me. Never written fanfiction before, so it was full of good life-lessons for me. I just hope y'all enjoyed it as much as me.
> 
> So: comments? Love, hate, all that and more are readily accepted (encouraged even!), as usual.
> 
> Also: if anyone has any ideas about what I should write next, I'm still taking suggestions. Let it go a few more days and I'll pick something out of a hat.
> 
> And, as always: MAY ETERNAL LOVE AND SUNSHINE POUR DOWN UPON THOSE WHO HAVE STUCK WITH ME TILL THE END. THOU ART MINE HEROES! AND I LOVE YOU ALL! I SHALT MISS YOU.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: this is based off something that actually happened to me, and it wouldn't leave my head till I wrote it all down.
> 
> I still don't own Supernatural...*sigh*...(probably for the best...), so no profit to be made here. Swan off if that's what you want.
> 
> PLEEEEEASE leave comments and such, it truly makes my day.
> 
> LOVE!!!


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